
Class 
Book 



Copyright N^. 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT- 




^Kt 




INTER-OCEAN 



Hunting Tales 



By Edgar F. Randolph 



ILLUSTRATED 



New York 
FOREST AND STREAM PUBLISHING CO. 

1908 






UBHARY of CONuRtSS 
J wo CoDies Hecf .««■ 

AUG 21 iy08 



COPt B. 



Copyright, 1908, 
By Forest and Stream Publishing Co. 



FOREWORD 

In this volume will be found a series of 
articles which In recent years have appeared 
\n Forest and Stream, The Incidents recounted 
took place In widely separated parts of the 
United States and Canada. 

As time slips by there is a pleasure In 
recalling hunting exploits which have become 
relegated to a past that can be lived over 
again only in memory. Whoever feels the 
sportsman's ardor kindle when blood red 
tales of the hunt are related — an ardor which 
the camera enthusiast, who possesses merely 
a platonic love of sport cannot appreciate — 
may discover an excuse for this book. Its 
style may strike one as somewhat Informal 
and lacking In literary finish, but it should be 
borne in mind that too much formality Is 
likely to take away the charm of camp life. 



Ill 



Foreword 

If you picture yourself seated on a log by 
the open camp-fire you will not be apt to 
criticize the absence of polish In the composi- 
tion of the text. You would as soon ask your 
guide to substitute patent leather shoes for 
his greased boots. 

May, 1908. 



IV 



CONTENTS 

Page 

A Reminiscence of the Rockies. . . i 

Expense of an Outing 33 

A New Brunswick Hunt 37 

Rounding Up Cats in Colorado. . . 47 
Duck Shooting in Calcasieu Parish 69 

Outing at Two-Ocean Pass 82 

Camp Life Near the Tetons 96 

Bloodless Sport 122 

Western Camp Life 130 

Elk Hunt in Wyoming 143 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

Facing Page 
Herd of Elk (Frontispiece) ^ 

Packing a Broncho 5 *^ 

Marvin Lake 47 

Hitting the Trail 65 

The Teton Range 83 

Breaking Camp 95 

A Glimpse of Rocky Mountain Scenery. 109 

Pack Horses Rounded up for the Return 120 

Mountain Climbing 130 

View From Mt. Leidy 140 

Guide Edward Sheffield and two Elk 

Heads i45 

Valley of Gros Ventre 150 

Chas. Herdick Skinning a Bull Elk, the 

Author at the Right 160 

Gros Ventre River 171 



INTER-OCEAN HUNTING TALES 



REMINISCENCE OF THE ROCKIES 

IN THE fall of 1896 I decided upon taking 
a hunting trip to the White River country 
in Colorado. At that time the White River 
country was well supplied with game and 
might almost be considered a sportsman's 
paradise, or, as an Indian described it to me, 
like the "happy hunting grounds." Deer 
were very plentiful, and around Hayden and 
in California Park antelope were numerous, 
although very shy. Bull elk occasionally 
adorned the landscape with their imposing 
presence and splendid spread of antlers. The 
cougar was heard occasionally, although never 
seen unless hunted with dogs. Old "Silver 
Tip" frequented the neighborhood, but had 
a way of making his bulky form vanish like 
some apparition. His depredations, where 
he had mangled the carcass of some animal 

I 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

or disturbed the habitations of a lot of small 
fry under a rotten log, furnished evidence of 
his presence. There was enough large game 
in the country to give some idea of what it had 
been at a time when the Redskin was the 
undisputed proprietor of the soil. 

I had secured, through correspondence, the 
services of a guide who had been well recom- 
mended. Having heard considerably about 
the cowboy, my curiosity had been somewhat 
excited, and I desired to form a better ac- 
quaintance from actual experience. The West 
was then, to my mind, a geographical 
area possessing a certain wildness and wooli- 
ness, which my imagination pictured to me. 
The rapid trend of events makes a book 
describing its general conditions seem behind 
the times almost as soon as it is published. 
Much of what I had read and heard, how- 
ever, seemed to me like a fairy tale in the face 
of actual experience, although, allowing for 
exaggeration, back of it all it had a founda- 

2 



A Reminiscence of the Rockies 

tlon of facts. Every time I have visited the 
West I have noticed the rapid progress of 
change. 

During my first hunting experience, I 
noticed that the typical bad man, of whom I 
had heard so much, with his rough-and-ready 
manner, accoutred with dangerous weapons, 
his social position established by the size of 
his private graveyard, was wanting. The 
facetious desperado, who had a pleasant way 
of requesting the "tenderfoot" to dance while 
he marked time with his six-shooter, was "non 
est." An unappreclatlve community had or- 
ganized from time to time a few "necktie 
parties," and the experience of such gentle- 
men has since become an Interesting theme 
for romance. The large settled communities 
of course had the same cosmopolitan air and 
character that one finds In the East. There 
was, nevertheless, something In the social 
atmosphere which Impressed you with the 
feeling that everything was very different. 

3 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

The cowboy, of whom I had heard so much, I 
learned to recognize as generally a very quiet, 
civil person, never going out of his way to do 
extraordinary things nor to make himself con- 
spicuous. A man of few words and not In- 
clined to familiarity, he Is essentially a man 
of action, and prefers to take a short cut 
to accomplish his purpose. If one should 
conclude that his reserve and his reticence 
were the result of mental torpor, he would 
make a great mistake. Apparently taking 
little Interest In a new acquaintance, and seem- 
ing to lack ordinary curiosity, I find that he 
Is, notwithstanding, a very close observer and 
has a quiet way of extracting Information 
without appearing eager to do so. 

My guide engaged to meet me at Buford, 
Colo. Being unacquainted with the locality, 
I wrote to obtain Information concerning the 
railroad station nearest my destination, and 
learned that It was Rifle. When I arrived at 
Rifle, I Inquired about the best way to get 

4 




PACKING A BRONCHO. 

Blindfolding a vicious animal is an expedient that generally 

attains its purpose. 



A Reminiscence of the Rockies 

to Buford, and was informed, to my sur- 
prise, that I had a journey by wagon of sixty 
miles to make. This was my first experience 
with the magnificent distances of the West. 
The result was that I miscalculated the time 
of meeting my guide by an entire day. When 
I arrived at Buford on the evening of the next 
day, my guide, whom I saw for the first time, 
rode up on a mustang, seated in a big Mexican 
saddle. With an easy air, as though we had 
been acquainted all our lives, he expressed 
his pleasure at meeting me and advised all 
necessary arrangements for the morrow's start 
on our hunt back in the mountains. 

It is interesting to notice how quickly and 
skillfully an experienced man can pack a lot 
of horses, apportioning the loads with great 
fairness, and balancing the dead weight so 
that it will ride easily on the backs of the not 
overwilling animals. Packing seems easy, and 
if you want to know how easy it is, try it. 
After you have ridden a mile or so, perhaps, 

S 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

some critical beast will begin to subject your 
work to a severe test by bucking. To express 
the state of your feelings when this happens 
would be Impossible, unless your sympathetic 
guide, who Is generally an expert in swearing, 
can help you out. 

The first day's journey was rather long and 
tedious, a large part of it through monoton- 
ous stretches of sage brush. When at length 
the timber was reached, the change was most 
agreeable. We arrived at the location of our 
first camp without a mishap, unless having my 
legs squeezed between the horse and a tree a 
couple of times could be considered as such. 
Although my guide knew his business as a 
guide, I could not recommend him as a first- 
rate cook. His efforts at making bread proved 
a flat failure, and we had to do without the 
staff of life. The canned provisions, which 
required practically no skill in their prepara- 
tioa, made the Inefficiency of the cooking less 
apparent. 

6 



A Reminiscence of the Rockies 

The camp being pitched in a well timbered 
and picturesque spot, we spent the rest of the 
afternoon in arranging everything and laying 
our plans for the next day. The waning sun- 
light found us spread comfortably around a 
big camp-jfire, which sent its genial glow far 
into the dark recesses of the gloomy forest. 
When a great heap of burning faggots had 
sunk into a bed of smouldering ashes and the 
rising wind murmuring through the pines 
gave warning of an approaching storm, I 
concluded to crawl under the bedding and 
sleep. The hard, frozen ground is not as 
comfortable as a spring mattress, but I had 
to get used to it, and was sleeping soundly, 
when I was awakened in the morning by the 
cheerful voice of the guide, who called out, 
"Breakfast!" as if he were summoning all the 
guests of a boarding house to a feast. When 
I crawled out of my sleeping bag into the 
chilly atmosphere, I found the guide doing 
the chores in his stocking feet. A few dashes 

7 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

of ice-cold water from the stream hard by 
drove away all feeling of drowsiness, and 
made me conscious of the fact that I had an 
appetite. 

After breakfast, without waiting to put 
camp in order, for the morning was already 
advanced, we started out in search of game. 
On coming to the edge of the timber, where 
the country opened up into one of the little 
parks which we frequently found in that 
locality, I saw the tall form of my guide 
slowly stoop behind some bushes, while, at 
the same time, he motioned me to be cautious. 
I soon saw what had arrested his attention. A 
magnificent blacktail deer, with a fine set of 
antlers, stood out in full view, not more than 
a. hundred yards away. There were a half a 
dozen does nearby, but they did not interest 
me. I brought "Old Meat in the Pot" to my 
shoulders, for that is what my guide had 
christened my .45-90, and after taking delib- 
erate aim, fired. Which was the most aston- 

8 



A Reminiscence of the Rockies 

ished, the buck, or myself, I could not say. 
He stood perfectly motionless, like an Image 
In bronze. I had evidently missed him. A 
second shot fared the same; then the whole 
bunch of deer began to scamper off unharmed 
by any of the shots I had fired at the buck. 
I could not account for the bad marksman- 
ship, for I knew that I did not have the buck 
fever. The guide said that I had killed one 
of the deer, which I disputed, until he pointed 
to a dying animal lying in a dense thicket just 
to the rear of the deer that had served as my 
target. I had not even seen It, until it was 
pointed out to me after I had shot It. After 
making several experiments with the rifle with- 
out satisfactory results, I found that the sight 
had been knocked out of place. I then handed 
the rifle over to the guide without correcting 
the error and requested him to let me see how 
a cowboy could shoot. With evident pride 
In his skill he brought the gun to his shoulder, 
but he shot as badly as any tenderfoot. 

9 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

In the meantime, the air was full of sounds 
more terrible than the report of the rifle. Any 
one who has heard a cowboy swear when he 
is really in earnest can understand what I 
mean. 

At last it occurred to him that the sights 
might be out of order, and when he examined 
them and discovered the trouble, he looked 
at me, and seeing my complacent smile, the 
whole truth dawned upon him. We both 
laughed heartily at our mutual discomfiture 
and pledged each other's health from the flask 
to celebrate the occasion. 

I returned to the camp without a trophy to 
commemorate my first success in killing deer, 
although I had secured an abundant supply 
of meat. 

The next day we covered considerable 
ground on horseback, without success. I had, 
however, an interesting experience in climbing 
a mountain known as Old Sleepy Cap, some- 
times, because of its peculiar formation at 

10 



A Reminiscence of the Rockies 

the summit, called the Razor Back. Th'e 
ascent of this mountain was not particularly 
easy, on account of Its abrupt elevation, 
although the height above the surrounding 
country was not great. The formation at 
the summit, which gave the unpoetlcal name 
of Razor Back to the mass, consisted of a 
long, narrow ridge, not more than eighteen 
Inches to two feet In width, bristling with 
sharp projections of rock of quite uniform 
height extending nearly its entire length of 
about ninety yards. At each end it broadens 
out in a space conveniently large for a tem- 
porary resting place. After satisfying my 
curiosity, I suggested a descent into the valley, 
where* the cool atmosphere would afford a wel- 
come relief from the blazing rays of the sun. 
Much to my surprise, the guide Informed me 
that the ascent was much easier at the point 
we came up than the descent, unless I wished 
to reach the bottom in a fashion that would 
imperil my neck. After discussing the matter 

II 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

with him a few moments and carefully study- 
ing the position, I came to the conclusion that 
he was right. We observed that at the other 
end we could find an easy way to descend. 
That meant a rather long and disagreeable 
walk on the serrated ridge, attended with con- 
siderable danger, or a still more unpleasant 
experience if I should attempt to crawl on 
hands and knees for greater safety. Like 
a couple of tomcat serenaders promenading 
on the top of a brick wall liberally strewn 
with broken bottles, we crawled to the far 
end of the ridge, where, with some difficulty, 
we descended. We returned to camp with no 
better luck than securing a snowshoe rabbit, 
which I shot through the head. 

For some days I conscientiously hunted, but 
found it difficult to come close enough to get a 
good shot at deer. I saw quite a number 
bounding away far out of range, often stop- 
ping at a safe distance to observe our move- 
ments. For lack of better sport, I occas- 

12 



A Reminiscence of the Rockies 

ionally practiced on the "fool grouse" — a 
bird very similar in appearance to our Eastern 
partridge, but about the tamest game I have 
ever shot. I could generally have three trials 
at one before it would move. I would pace 
off the proper space, and then aim at the head. 
The flesh was not particularly delicate, and 
would certainly not please the palate of an 
epicure. 

One day as we were traveling in a blinding 
snow flurry, we came to a precipice thickly 
fringed with undergrowth and small trees. 
Impelled by curiosity, I got off my horse and 
went near the edge to get a view of the coun- 
try below. The waving tops of the pines 
beneath were barely visible, the force of the 
wind coming through the great long valley 
at my feet, sounded like the hollow roar of 
the ocean. As I stood upon the cliff, gratify- 
ing my fancy with the weird and strange im- 
pressions the surroundings made upon me, 
the storm began to abate, and through the 

13 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

diminishing fall of snow the sun gradually 
diffused its light, and presently the atmos- 
phere cleared up, and the entire landscape was 
revealed to view as though a great white sheet 
concealing nature^s panorama had been pulled 
aside. On a ledge jutting out from the base 
of the precipice, about tvvo hundred feet be- 
low, I observed the shapely form of a deer 
with a fawn lying on the rock alongside of it. 
As far as the eye could distinguish, a great 
forest of aspen with white trunks and branches 
sparsely decorated with yellow leaves, filled 
the valley. Dense masses of pines, which 
completely covered the steep mountain sides, 
except where the ragged projections broke 
through, formed a dark setting to the brilliant 
landscape which lay between. My reverie 
was finally broken by a voice nearby: ''Well, 
pardner, it's pretty late and we are a long 
way from camp." Traveling in that rough 
country^ after dark is not attractive to one who 
is not looking for trouble. So I mounted my 

14 



A Reminiscence of the Rockies 

horse and began to occupy myself with ob- 
serving game signs and Incidentally thought 
of the camp-fire and kettle. 

It is interesting to notice how strangely the 
element of luck will enter into a sportsman's 
experience. One day, after hunting faithfully 
from early dawn until evening without suc- 
cess, I concluded to vary the monotony by 
shooting at a mark. I had not been engaged 
in that pastime very long before my attention 
was arrested by hearing something crashing 
through the brush at the foot of the hill where 
I stood, and presently I saw a fine blacktail 
buck come bounding up the slope directly 
toward me, accompanied by a doe. My rifle 
was just ready to bring up to my shoulder, but 
I remained motionless in plain view, waiting 
for the game to come within easy range. A 
more picturesque sight than that blacktail, 
easily and gracefully clearing the fallen tim- 
bers, I have rarely seen. My eagerness did 
not interfere with my sizing up the well- 

15 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

proportioned and beautifully poised antlers, 
which I regarded as already mine. As I 
raised my rifle to shoot, although the action 
was quite deliberate, it was immediately 
noticed. The deer changed its course when 
not over forty yards away, exposing its broad 
flank to my aim. It ran some distance after 
I fired, clearing with ease the trunk of a large 
fallen tree, and giving me no little concern 
for a few moments. Following his tracks, I 
soon came upon the deer, dead. It was in- 
deed a fine specimen, weighing perhaps two 
hundred and fifty pounds, in good condition 
and with a perfect set of antlers. 

I had often heard of the remarkably acute 
senses of wild animals; the timidity and keen- 
ness of deer are proverbial, and yet here was 
an Instance which seemed to belie all former 
stories and past experience. Standing in plain 
view while firing at a mark, the buck ran 
directly toward me. One would naturally 

suppose that the noise of the shooting would 

i6 



A Reminiscence of the Rockies 

have driven the animal away. My theory 
about the occurrence Is, that when the report 
of the rifle Is first heard, the tendency Is for 
a wild animal to become alarmed and iTin In 
the opposite direction, but presently when It 
catches the echo, the real direction of the 
sound Is misconceived, and it will then run 
In the direction of the firing. Other sports- 
men have agreed with me in this view. 
There Is no doubt that deer and other wild 
animals can tell the direction of sound, and 
consequently, when one becomes alarmed by 
the shooting and runs toward the place where 
the sportsman is located, it is not the ear, but 
the judgment that Is at fault. A wild animal 
can have no correct Idea of an echo, but un- 
doubtedly imagines that It Is an entirely dif- 
ferent sound, and being last heard determines 
Its final course. 

This, however, does not explain the action 
of the deer in running directly toward me 
when I was In plain view. All sportsmen soon 

17 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

learn to recognize the fact that animals, 
although keen of sight, are not very discrim- 
inating. Birds, as well as wild animals, will 
frequently continue their course when it lies 
in the direction of a human being, provided 
there Is no perceptible movement to attract 
their attention. Any kind of motion Is im- 
mediately noticed, particularly if it is at all 
sudden. Stationary objects are not apt to 
attract much attention unless there is some- 
thing very strange in their appearance, espe- 
cially if the coloring does not harmonize with 
the general surroundings and happens to be 
different from what is ordinarily seen. 

Animals use their faculties in a very 
mechanical way, and this observation Is more 
true of sight than of any other sense. I have 
seen a pack of dogs which had followed a 
bobcat's tracks to a tree where they supposed 
it had taken refuge, baying and standing 
guard, while It was perfectly evident to any 
one who was not blind that the cat had es- 

i8 



A Reminiscence of the Rockies 

caped. The sense of smell had directed the 
dogs to the spot, and relying upon the in- 
formation received In that way, they failed to 
avail themselves of the Intelligence they might 
have derived from another source. I have 
no doubt that the sight of dogs Is particularly 
keen, but they rely almost entirely upon the 
sense of smell. When the mind Is greatly 
absorbed In one direction. It Is for the time 
being far less observant or attentive In other 
ways. A human being depends mostly upon 
the sight, and next upon hearing; the sense 
of smell Is the least used of any of the senses. 
Among animals, with few exceptions, smell 
is the principal sense, and all the others are 
little used in comparison, although very acute. 

Having secured a good deer trophy, I next 
turned my thoughts to a different kind of 
hunting, and concluded that antelope would 
afford a pleasing variety, both as a prize and 
in the method of hunting. 

The next day the outfit was got in readiness 

19 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

and we started for a place called Hayden, 
located in California Park. The sun had 
melted the snow, and the journey was hot 
and dusty. Traveling over the steep moun- 
tain trails, the guide gave me the lead, while 
he rode at the rear of the pack horses strung 
out in single file, and made use of all the arts 
of persuasion to keep them going, frequently 
leaning down to pick up a rock or a stick to 
hurl at some "ornery" beast that would turn 
a deaf ear to the appeal, "Wake up and pay 
for your bedding." Speeches in true cowboy 
style, with plenty of rhetoirical flourishes, were 
delivered almost without intermission, when 
the traveling was particularly difficult. 

After leaving the timber, we had a tedious 
journey through long stretches of sage brush. 
The land where the sage brush abounds seems 
desolate and forsaken, and would impress the 
casual observer as perfectly worthless. While 
reflecting upon the forbidding aspect of the 
country, I wondered If this land could be 

20 



A RexMiniscence of the Rockies 

rendered productive upon the arrival of that 
era "when the desert would blossom as the 
rose." I discovered an answer to my ques- 
tion ere long, when my sight was gladdened 
by a neat little ranch located near a stream, 
with about two acres of ground irrigated 
and under cultivation. If it had been an oasis 
in a desert, the contrast could not have been 
more striking. A great stack of alfalfa hay 
stood near the ranch, exposing a cut in its 
side which revealed the interior perfectly 
green. At first I thought that the grass had 
not been properly cured, but I learned after- 
ward that the alfalfa contains so much nutri- 
ment that it remains green a long time after 
it has been cured and stacked. There were 
quite a number of fruit trees of small size so 
laden with fruit that the branches had to be 
propped. All that is needed to make the soil 
productive, is to clear off the sage brush, and 
irrigate. 

We camped that night by a stream in a 

21 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

clump of aspen trees, many of which, although 
dead, were still standing. The aspen when 
dead becomes exceedingly dry and light, and 
makes a very hot and bright fire, but quickly 
burns out, leaving a small quantity of ashes 
to the amount of wood consumed. After the 
evening meal, we piled the dead aspen wood 
upon the fire until it formed a heap nearly as 
high as our heads. The flames shot well into 
the air and lighted up the landscape for a 
considerable distance. Listening to the guide 
spinning his yarns as we lay by the cheerful 
blaze, the time slipped by rapidly. It may 
not be out of place to relate one of the stories 
my guide told me, as a sample of the kind 
of Intellectual treat they furnished. 

Among his acquaintances was a telegraph 
operator at a place called Red Wing on the 
Denver and Rio Grande Railroad. The 
operator had taught the guide a smattering of 
telegraphy, and the sequel will prove the truth 
of the saying that "a little knowledge Is a 

22 



A Reminiscence of the Rockies 

dangerous thing." The operator was on very 
friendly terms with a young lady In the same 
employment at a station not many miles away, 
and when business was slack they freely cor- 
responded In complimentary and sometimes 
sentimental messages, until at length their 
feelings toward each other had deepened Into 
something more than friendship. One day 
the guide dropped Into the office, and while 
he was there, the operator had to leave for a 
short time on other business. During his 
absence a message came over the wire of 
the usual sentimental kind. The "charge 
d'affaires" did not recognize the sender nor 
understand the message, but being possessed 
of ready wit and unlimited assurance, he Im- 
mediately sent back a reply characterized by 
brevity, force and splclness. When the regu- 
lar operator returned and endeavored to re- 
sume a tete-a-tete he could get no response, 
nor was further communication continued, ex- 
cept In the ordinary course of business. An 

23 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

effort to obtain an explanation received no 
notice, as he was supposed to be the guilty 
party and naturally would understand the 
cause of the trouble well enough without It. 
While the operator was pouring out the bur- 
den of his troubled soul to the guide a few 
days after, a suspicion flashed across the mind 
of the latter that perhaps the fragrant mes- 
sage he had sent at random might have been 
the cause of the misunderstanding. He so 
informed the operator, and matters were 
finally satisfactorily explained, and the former 
friendly relations restored. 

When California Park was at length 
reached, we found the country very hilly, but 
open. There were a number of antelope in 
that locality, but It was almost impossible to 
get a good shot at one. The atmosphere Is 
so deceptive that it Is very difficult to gauge 
the distance. I made a good many quite 
accurate line shots, but they were Invariably 
either too high or too low. It was some 

24 



A Reminiscence of the Rockies 

time before I could form a correct idea of the 
distance. I believe It Is best for any one 
shooting In a strange country where distances 
are deceptive, to ask Information of the guide, 
so that he may be able to sight his rifle at the 
right elevations. In an open country, where 
the atmosphere Is rarefied and objects are seen 
very distinctly, It Is easy to underestimate the 
range of your mark; while In the timber, par- 
ticularly If It Is fairly dense, the tendency Is 
to overestimate and consequently shoot too 
high. After a couple of days, I at last suc- 
ceeded In bagging an antelope and tried to 
run down on horseback another one that I had 
creased, but It managed to escape. It would 
frequently stop and look back while being 
pursued. Once I checked my horse and 
waited. The antelope stood still and watched 
me at a safe distance. I observed that It grew 
no weaker from the loss of blood, and when I 
resumed the chase I became convinced that it 
was probably more than a match in speed for 

25 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

my jaded horse. I did not seem to gain on 
it, and the horse was showing great distress 
under the strain. I had not the heart to apply 
the stimulus to make him quicken his pace as 
the guide did to his horse, fairly raking his 
sides from the shoulders down with the great 
Mexican spurs until they were red with 
blood. 

My experience In hunting antelope con- 
vinces me that a sportsman earns about every 
trophy he gets. No man can be a sluggard 
and succeed in hunting this kind of game. 
With senses as acute as any wild animals 
possess, they live in an open country, where 
every object Is visible except for the slight 
concealment offered by the sage brush or some 
depression of the ground. The antelope have 
one stupid habit — very remarkable on account 
of their keenness In other respects. They will 
almost always follow their leader, strung out 
in single file, notwithstanding that in doing so 
the end of the line may come close to a hunter 

26 



A Reminiscence of the Rockies 

In pursuit who Is cutting across their course. 
When the hne Is strung out to a considerable 
length, and the mounted hunter Is not more 
than a few hundred yards away and Is riding 
at right angles to the course that the antelope 
are pursuing, It can readily be seen that the 
last of the herd will have allowed the pursuer 
to gain considerable distance. There has 
been a good deal of discussion In regard to 
the possibility of running antelope down by 
mounted hunters. The stratagem usually 
employed Is to surround a bunch of antelope 
by making a wide circle sufficiently large to 
avoid giving Immediate alarm to the herd. 
Several men begin the chase by riding toward 
them from several widely separated points 
and driving the herd In the direction of an- 
other group of hunters, who are concealed 
from sight In some depression of the ground. 
When the herd reaches the point where the 
other hunters are concealed, they are pursued 
by men on fresh mounts. Sometimes the herd 

27 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

is scattered, and some stray confused animal 
will try to rejoin the others, and in doing so 
will run straight in the direction of his com- 
rades, quite regardless of the closeness of his 
pursuers. I saw one lone distracted animal 
trying to rejoin the herd come within sixty 
yards of a dismounted hunter, who tried to 
get a shot at it, but was prevented by his 
horse straying in front of him and moving 
in such a way that his aim was cut off, until 
the antelope had considerably increased the 
distance, and then escaped the shots fired. 

My time being limited, I was compelled to 
cut my antelope hunt short without having 
secured a suitable trophy, although I had 
plenty of hard riding and excitement. On 
the return trip, as the guide and myself sat 
by the camp-fire, a cowboy joined us who 
became quite companionable, and gave us all 
the news after his mind had been sufficiently 
stimulated by several generous pulls at the 
flask. It appeared that a couple of days be- 

28 



A Reminiscence of the Rockies 

fore an attempt had been made one night to 
rob the bank at Meeker. Before the robbers 
could accomplish their purpose, the citizens 
discovered what was taking place and quietly 
surrounded the building. When the men 
came out they were shot down and killed; 
the ends of justice wxre thereby satisfied with- 
out the proverbial law's delay. The cowboy 
then told me of another bank, In which he 
was a depositor, which had been robbed not 
long before by one of Its officers, who had 
gotten off with a considerable sum. I asked 
him what the liabilities were. The word stag- 
gered him. Although I recognized that he 
was a man of resources, yet I felt sure that I 
had "stumped him," and felt sorry for It. He 
stared vacantly at the fire a few moments and 
slowly shifted a quid from one side of his 
mouth to the other and sent a long, yellow 
stream Into the center of the blaze, which I 
thought for a moment would extinguish It; 
at length he replied In a leisurely way: "Wal, 

?9 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

pardner, the liabilities are — If they catch him 
they will hang him." 

Two days afterward I took leave of my 
guide ; I felt as I clasped his great strong hand 
that the compression came as much from the 
heart as the muscles. 

I soon found myself again In civilized sur- 
roundings. A barber's skill, a warm bath and 
conventional attire had already wrought a 
wonderful transformation. As I sat In a com- 
fortable seat and looked out of the car 
window, observing the strange and beautiful 
scenery, so continually changing with the 
rapid movement of the train, every hour 
covering a greater distance than I could travel 
with a pack outfit In a day, I felt how much 
easier It was to take It all in this way; nO' 
fractious horse to control ; free from the burn- 
ing sun, which would often shoot down Its 
rays upon one like the heat waves from a 
furnace, and while in the midst of this ordeal, 
the climate would sometimes suddenly change 

30 



A Reminiscence of the Rockies 

with the clouds gathering in the sky, and a 
cold wave, perhaps accompanied by a snow- 
storm, would follow. When I reflect upon 
my experience in after years, the scenery I 
observed so rapidly and with no effort, re- 
appears to my mind like a blurred photograph 
as compared to what I saw while traveling 
with the pack outfit. The charm of natural 
scenery grows upon one by degrees; whoever 
thinks that the charm wanes when the novelty 
has worn off is not a true admirer of nature. 
Whatever opinion one may entertain of 
the foregoing statement, it is very certain 
that the sportsman cannot gratify his favorite 
desire and at the same time consult his ease 
in all respects. A royal sportsman may afford 
the luxury of having a force of game keepers 
drive wild beasts within range of his rifle, 
and imagine that he is enjoying the real thing. 
The average man has no such opportunity, 
and I believe has no reason to regret it. The 
best hunting sections of the country are re- 

31 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

mote from settlements, and are generally 
somewhat difficult of access. Game Is by no 
means so plentiful now as It was when the 
country was being opened to civilizing In- 
fluence by the Introduction of railroads. It 
is no longer possible for a wealthy man, 
who likes sport without Inconvenience and 
hardship, to have his parlor car side-tracked, 
and to make it a headquarters while enjoying 
the pastime. One Is compelled to rough It to 
some extent to obtain success in hunting big 
game at the present time. But after all. Is 
that an objection? Does it not put a keen 
edge on the sportsman's desire? Those hunt- 
ing incidents which have given me the greatest 
trouble and exercised my skill the most are 
the ones I recall with greatest pleasure. 



32 



EXPENSE OF AN OUTING 

THE expense, of a Western hunting trip 
after big game, and what Is necessary 
to make It a success, will largely depend upon 
how much or how little one requires. The 
average man, accustomed to the ordinary 
comforts of civilized environment, should be 
careful to supply himself with as many of 
these as possible, without too greatly Increas- 
ing the expense and the bulk of what has to 
be transported. 

The season of the year makes a difference 
also-. In the late fall or during the winter any 
one who' Is not accustomed to camping out In 
cold weather will find a tent with a light, 
portable sheet-Iron stove, which can easily be 
carried on a horse's back, very serviceable. 

My last hunting trip In the West was late 
In the fall, and I had everything complete, 

33 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

I will enumerate what I took and then state 
the cost: I had a guide and a cook; a tent 
for myself and another which served as 
quarters for the three men and also for a 
dining pavilion; a sheet-iron stove for each 
tent, which, with several lengths of pipe 
weighed very little; two folding tables and 
several chairs that packed into very small 
space; plenty of warm bedding and under- 
wear; a liberal supply of canned stuff — soups, 
meats, vegetables, preserves, etc. — besides the 
usual standbys, flour, bacon, my rifle, ammu- 
nition, etc., and a few books to read when 
I was tired cf hunting and wanted to loaf in 
camp. The cost was as. follows : Guide, $3 
per day; horse wrangler, $2 per day; cook, 
$3 per day; eight pack horses, 50 cents apiece 
per day; six dogs, no charge. 

Provisions, consisting principally of canned 
stuff, at from 15 to 20 cents a can, I pur- 
chased at St. Anthony, Idaho. I had about 
$60 worth of canned stuff, and had some left 

34 



Expense of an Outing 

over after camping out thirty days. In round 
figures it cost me about $14 a day while camp- 
ing out. This expense can be cut down, if 
one wishes to economize. Great care, how- 
ever, should be taken about attempting to cut 
off too much. 

I have heard much adverse criticism in 
regard to canned goods, but in my own ex- 
perience I find them most serviceable. What 
are generally sold contain, as a rule, a large 
quantity of water, and this adds unnecessarily 
to the weight and bulk. A great deal of this 
may be had in a condensed form; before 
cooking, water can be added to it. 

The success of a hunting trip depends 
almost entirely upon the guide. Great care 
should be taken against securing the services 
of any one without first finding out something 
about him in advance. If you are fifty or 
one hundred miles out in the wilderness and 
your guide should prove unsatisfactory, you 
cannot conveniently dispense with his services. 

35 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

In that case you have nothing to do but to 
make the best of a bad bargain. 

With the disappearance of big game almost 
everywhere, and the greater difficulty of 
securing it, more skill and special knowledge 
are required now than formerly. There are 
a good many men who have shot large game 
and lived in the wilderness who would not 
make competent guides. The man whose 
time is limited must select as his guide some- 
one who has a good knowledge of woodcraft, 
understands the habits of wild animals and is 
able to furnish a good outfit. 



36 



A NEW BRUNSWICK HUNT 

THE Province of New Brunswick, in the 
neighborhood of the Tobique River, 
was once noted as a favorite resort for cari- 
bou, but for some reason this fickle, migratory 
animal has become somewhat scarce in that 
locality. The moose has become more abun- 
dant. Various reasons are given for the 
diminishing number of caribou and the in- 
crease of moose, but I do not undertake to 
explain the cause of the change. There are 
certainly quite a number of moose In the 
country, and if one is not too eager to shoot 
the first chance he gets, and will wait till he 
sees a good head, a hunt of several weeks 
ought to secure satisfactory results. The law 
allows a sportsman only one moose, and that 
fact should make him careful about bagging 
anything which comes in sight. 

2>1 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

The true sportsman should form a resolu- 
tion to secure a good trophy or nothing. It 
Is pitiable to see what rubbish some people 
lug out of the woods — heads that are wanting 
in size and defective In fair proportions. The 
head of the moose lacks the grace and beauty 
of outline which characterize the elk, the only 
large animal of this continent which can 
compare with it in size, and so it must make 
up In masslveness what It lacks In other re- 
spects. Whether large or small, an elk's 
head Is almost Invariably beautiful and grace- 
ful. In securing a trophy one can afford to 
be more independent of size w^hen an elk 
head Is the object sought, and not the head 
of a moose. 

The attractiveness of a moose head consists 
largely In Its grotesqueness ; the size has quite 
as much to do with that as Its shape. 

If one intends to hunt in New Brunswick, 
a great deal depends upon the kind of hunt- 
ing desired, whether one goes early or 

38 



A New Brunswick Hunt 

late In the season. In the early part of the 
season, say from the first of September to the 
25th of October, there is little or no snow, 
and at that time it is extremely difficult to get 
any large game by stalking, for the ground 
is covered with dry leaves and brittle wood, 
which make considerable noise at every step. 
At that season one must depend largely upon 
canoe work and calling for moose, while 
caribou and deer are then still more difficult 
to hunt. 

Moose frequently come down to the water, 
of which they are very fond, and in which 
they bathe and wallow. Caribou are less apt 
to frequent such spots. Calling is a favorite 
method of bringing moose within range, but 
great care has to be ex:ercised, for a single 
false note and your noble quarry, instead of 
accepting an invitation to a funeral, which he 
IS to grace, will retire to a place of safety. 

When there are a few inches of snow on 
the ground, hunting becomes more attractive 

39 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

to the sportsman. Instead of sitting In his 
canoe waiting for something to come within 
range, he Is vigorously ex:erclslng his muscles 
and his knowledge of woodcraft to secure a 
shot, and often his skill Is put to a consider- 
able test In shooting through thick timber. 

There Is nothing more Improving to 
health and conducive to happiness than 
strenuous exercise In the cold, bracing air, 
with sport as an Incentive. Whatever may be 
the outcome of your hunting, you are sure to 
take out of the woods with you an Increased 
supply of vital energy and robustness, which, 
after all. Is very Important. If your hunting 
should not furnish you with such tangible 
results as you would like to see, console 
yourself with the reflection that a very wealthy 
man once offered *'a mlUIon dollars for a new 
stomach," and perhaps you have secured an 
equivalent for a great deal less. 

Early In October of 1904 I joined my guide 
at the forks of the Toblque. We Immedl- 

40 



A New Brunswick Hunt 

ately started out In a canoe, Into which I 
packed all my things, to pole up the Little 
Toblque. The water was pretty high, and 
this Increased the difficulty of ascending the 
river, whose current, naturally strong, was 
interspersed by rocks and the debris of stray 
logs and woodland refuse. The sturdy skill 
of the guide was considerably taxed In spite 
of the small assistance rendered by me with 
the paddle; and yet I was of some assistance 
In forcing the canoe over places where there 
was no poling bottom. In about five hours 
we reached our destination and put up at the 
camp, which consisted of a very commodious 
log cabin, where we found the cook, who soon 
began to busy himself In preparing the even- 
ing meal. The two succeeding mornings I 
got up before day, while stars were still 
bright, and returned late In the morning, 
having as a reward for my pains a good 
appetite and plenty to satisfy It, when I could 
succeed in getting It down. The third morn- 

41 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

Ing both the guide and myself overslept, and 
with a blush of shame I encountered the glare 
of Old Sol as he fiercely showered his burn- 
ing rays upon our heads. 

That same morning a lazy bull moose had 
been guilty of the same offense, and appeared 
at the bank of the river to take his belated 
bath just as our canoe came dancing and 
twisting down the swift, turbid stream toward 
him. The big bull did not seem in the least 
concerned, although every moment we were 
rapidly drawing nearer. If he had been 
standing in the water, I believe he would 
have let us run Into him had we been disposed 
to do SO'. With a quick movement of the 
paddle, the guide turned the canoe so that I 
could secure an easy position to shoot, and 
then a sharp crack of the Mauser rifle, fol- 
lowed by the heavy swaying motion of the 
animal as he sank down to pour out his life 
blood on the sand, closed the incident. 

The head measured fifty-two inches, and 

42 



A New Brunswick Hunt 

was quite shapely. As I surveyed the pros- 
trate form of this pride of the Canadian 
forest, I thought that it was no particular 
skill of mine which had brought it within 
easy reach and secured me a fine trophy. It 
seemed to me as though the original owner of 
the antlers had almost made me a present of 
them. We do not greatly appreciate things 
which come too easily into our possession. 
I would have been better pleased if the royal 
beast had made the shot more difficult and 
had given me a chance to exercise my skill. 
He may have mistaken me for one of those 
sportsmen who tremblingly pass the gun to 
the guide and ask him to shoot. 

During that time I saw another moose, 
which I declined to shoot, because, as I in- 
formed a friend, I had all the law allowed, 
and for the further reason that "it had no 
head." When I informed my friend that 
the moose "had nO' head," he seemed some- 
what incredulous, but after I .explained that 

43 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

this was an Irish bull, he seemed better 
satisfied. 

During the rest of my sojourn I had con- 
siderable amusement in shooting at a mark 
with my .22 automatic Winchester, which 
affords plenty of practice without making toe 
much noise, and is also useful for small game. 

The return trip home was diversified with 
the common experiences of the transition 
from the rough camp life to your own fire- 
side, when you sit in an easy chair and talk 
it all over with your friends. Sixty miles' 
paddling down the Tobique, ever impelled 
by its rapid though wayward current, which 
required the constant correction of your 
course, and gave delight in the survey of the 
beautiful banks decorated by the virgin forest 
for miles, marked the first day's journey. 
The next day a ride in stuffy cars over a 
second-class railroad, until you finally land In 
a Pullman coach and spin along at the rate 
of sixty miles an hour. Perhaps you pick 

44 



A New Brunswick Hunt 

up a chance acquaintance In one or two sports- 
men who' have just returned from a similar 
outing, and tell you of their mighty deeds 
which lose nothing by repetition; you shrink 
within your modest little self as you listen, 
for you know you have accomplished nothing 
which will stand well In comparison. 

On my way back I met several sportsmen, 
one of whom related to me his exploits, which 
were very tame on first recital. We were sit- 
ting In the smoking apartment of the Pull- 
man, when presently two other sportsmen 
came In and we got Into conversation over 
our different hunting experiences. The two 
sportsmen who came In last related the won- 
derful feats which they had accomplished. 
After they had talked themselves out, my 
first acquaintance, who had been so modest 
In what he related, much to my surprise took 
a fresh start. I think a couple of good drinks, 
which stimulated his Imagination and stirred 
his personal pride, had something to do with 

45 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

It. With an eloquence which truly surprised 
me, he added the 'Verisimilitude of truth to 
otherwise bald and uninteresting statement of 
facts." It was evident that the newcomers 
were outclassed, for my modest friend was 
not only gifted of tongue, but he told his 
story last. I have discovered that there are 
more ways than one of establishing a reputa- 
tion as a sportsman, and sometimes the "gift 
o' gab" is more important than skill In 
handling a rifle. 



46 



ROUNDING UP CATS IN 
COLORADO 

THE mountain Hon of the West Is the 
panther or cougar of our Eastern 
States, sometimes called "painter" by the old- 
fashioned backwoodsman; In some localities 
It goes by the name of "Indian devil," no 
doubt on account of the weird, unearthly 
noises It makes at night. In Mexico It Is 
known as the "puma," and grows to a larger 
size than elsewhere. In appearance the moun- 
tain Hon Is very similar to the African lioness, 
having a smooth, tawny skin, without any 
mane; a full-grown animal that will measure 
from seven to eight feet from Its nose to the 
end of the tall and weighs about i8o pounds, 
is considered a large specimen. They seldom 
exceed this, and more frequently fall below It. 
Although often engaged In hunting big 
game, I never saw a mountain Hon at large 

47 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

except when one has been rounded up by a 
pack of dogs. In their habits they are stealthy 
and secretive, carefully keeping concealed, 
and never willing to fight unless cornered, 
with no chance of escape. Occasionally, when 
the odds are overwhelmingly In Its favor, a 
Hon will provoke a battle, but this Is not often 
the case. 

In disposition and character the mountain 
Hon belies its name; of all carnivorous beasts 
It Is, perhaps, the most cowardly. Being ex- 
ceedingly destructive. It not only kills for 
food, but it also kills out of wantonness. I 
have run across numbers of deer that have 
been destroyed by the same animal within 
short distances of each other, the carcasses 
being allowed to remain almost entire. It 
has also been stated on good authority that 
one Hon will be likely to kill In the course of a 
year about one hundred and fifty deer. 

Considering Its destructive disposition, I 

have no doubt that in a country where the 

48 



Rounding Up Cats in Colorado 

deer are at all numerous, this statement Is not 
far from the truth. The ranchman has a 
cordial hatred for this destroyer of his stock, 
and the cunning displayed by the Hon In 
evading traps and turning away from poisoned 
meat makes him all the more unpopular. This 
animal will not eat of any kill unless It Is his 
own or that of some other Hon. Extremity of 
hunger may cause him to act differently, but 
It Is exceptional. Most success In hunting this 
game Is to be found In localities where the deer 
are plentiful. It Is practically useless to at- 
tempt any hunting of this kind unless you have 
a pack of well trained dogs handled by some 
one who has complete control over them. 
Great care and patience has to be exercised In 
breaking a pack of dogs for this purpose, and 
to prevent them from running other game. 
If, for example, a pack should take after a 
timber wolf, that animal Is so fleet that he 
would distance most of his pursuers and string 
them out considerably. The wolf has been 

49 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

known to turn on the pack thus separated and 
kill a number of the dogs, one after the other, 
before the pack could be united. The disap- 
pointed huntsman, reaching the end of the run 
on his jaded horse, might survey the remnants 
of his pack — first the survivors with down- 
cast heads and apologetic tails between their 
legs — and then some dog fur scattered over 
the blood-bespattered ground, and here and 
there a mangled corpse. It is no joke to have 
a pack run for miles after the wrong game 
over rough country, your whole day's sport 
broken up, and perhaps lose your dogs for 
several days. 

The mountain lion has not much endurance 
in the chase, although very fast for a short 
distance, which he covers by a series of leaps. 
In a short time he Is treed or driven to the 
ledge of a precipice or into some hiding place. 
If you are fond of hunting with a camera, you 
generally have ample time to take a photo- 
graph of your prize, perhaps posing In the 

SO 



Rounding Up Cats in Colorado 

branches of a tree and looking as pleasant as 
possible — for a mountain lion ! 

The lively serenade furnished by the dogs, 
which the lion recognizes by continual growls, 
displaying his whole set of ivories, completes 
a scene not soon forgotten. Your share of 
the business is very tame, although absolutely 
effective. A shot at close range behind the 
shoulder, and the Hon tumbles among the 
savage dogs to engage In a losing fight; while 
In the agony of death, not Infrequently he 
leaves some little reminders of his long claws 
and strong teeth upon his assailants. 

In the month of January, 1900, I engaged 
the services of John B. Goff, who possessed a 
good pack of dogs to hunt "lions" and "cats" 
in Colorado. The "cats" referred to are 
bobcats, not the Canada lynx with which they 
are sometimes confounded. The winter was 
unusually free from snowfalls, and the ground 
being very dry. It made hunting difficult, be- 
cause the dogs could hardly follow the scent. 

51 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

My first destination was a ranch on Straw- 
berry Creek belonging to the guide, about 
twelve miles from Meeker. Here for several 
days we engaged In a fruitless hunt, until one 
morning a fresh fall of snow covered the 
ground, when our efforts were rewarded by 
the dogs striking a couple of cat trails ; these 
we followed a short distance, with the whole 
pack tearing away ahead of us In full cry. The 
dogs followed the trail to a great pile of mas- 
sive rocks, which towered a hundred feet 
above our heads, and there became be- 
wildered. What had become of the stealthy 
bobcats? The guide and myself climbed the 
rocks to search for them. Looking down 
from the summit I saw one of them lying In 
front of a cave surveying the dogs, which 
were silently and swiftly nosing around below 
it. It was easy enough to shoot the cat where 
it was, but as it rested on the ledge of a rock 
of some breadth, it was a grave question 
whether it might not die there where it would 

53 



Rounding Up Cats in Colorado 

be practically Inaccessible, and we would have 
all our pains for nothing. 

To drive the cat from its position Into a 
better one was more than a doubtful possibil- 
ity, as it was likely to run back into the cave. 
So I took a chance and fired. Like a crash of 
lightning above their heads, the excited dogs 
heard the report and knew that "there was 
something doing." The wounded cat gave a 
sudden leap into space and fell among them. 
If there is any question about a "cat having 
nine lives," it seems that the dogs were bound 
to be on the safe side, for they mauled the 
remains until I began to fear that the fur 
might be damaged before I could come to 
the rescue. Through a fatal curiosity, the 
other cat peeped over the precipice, and paid 
for its rashness with Its hide, which I added 
to my collection. The job of skinning the 
cats I turned over to the guide. 

The big dogs sat around In sullen dignity, 
particularly avoiding any familiarity with 

53 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

smaller dogs and with each other. Each one 
seemed to consider himself the hero of the 
occasion. I have had occasion tO' observe that 
the pack would work and fight well together, 
but after the fray they seemed to be Intensely 
jealous of each other. 

Several of the dogs Interested me consid- 
erably. One of them was called "Old Jim," 
a big black-and-tan foxhound, with a deep 
bass voice which would swell the chorus when 
the pack was In full cry and sometimes almost 
drown It. Old Jim would occasionally pro- 
voke the not over angelic temper of the guide 
by leading the whole pack after a coyote. On 
one occasion he had distinguished himself by 
whipping a coyote, and whenever one of these 
"sassy" prairie wolves would show Itself, he 
could not resist the temptation of giving chase, 
leading the whole pack after him. 

Any one acquainted with Western hunting 
knows how useless It Is for dogs to attempt to 
outrun a coyote. The coyotes would fre- 

54 



Rounding Up Cats in Colorado 

quently come close to the pack, If there was 
no man nearby, as though to provoke a chase 
for our special annoyance. The dogs, how- 
ever, would never run the coyotes' trail; they 
were broken of that. 

Another Interesting acquaintance was a dog 
called Turk, a cro6S-breed, but a very strong 
and stubborn fighter, all seamed with scars. 
Turk kept near the guide, and did not run 
with the pack except when there was some- 
thing In view. He was a good-natured dog 
ordinarily, but an ugly customer In a scrap. 

There was another dog called Boxer which 
had a very keen scent; long before the rest 
could discover a trail one could hear Boxer's 
knowing yelps, which would gradually de- 
velop Into a chorus, as one by one the other 
dogs would detect the scent as It became 
warmer. Boxer had more judgment than any 
other dog In the pack, and was very good In 
puzzling out a broken trail. 

We spent several days longer at the ranch 

55 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

on Strawberry Creek. While there the guide 
purchased a broken-down horse to feed tO' the 
dogs. It is not a particularly easy matter to 
keep twenty-one dogs supplied with food. 
When the horse was led out for execution the 
dogs became intensely excited and seemed to 
know "what was up." The moment the 
animal was shot, and almost before it fell to 
the ground, the whole pack of dogs, big and 
small, was tearing eagerly at the carcass. No 
doubt the habit of attacking wild animals as 
soon as they have been shot developed their 
naturally savage dispositions. 

At the suggestion of the guide, we decided 
to go to a ranch near the Bear River Cafion, 
two days' journey from our present location. 
When we arrived at the* ranch, after a long 
day's ride on horseback, we found the ranch- 
man's wife keeping house; her husband had 
left for several days. She seemed in no con- 
dition to entertain us on account of a bad 
headache, but kindly offered to do whatever 

56 



Rounding Up Cats in Colorado 

she could. We volunteered to help her out 
with her domestic duties. First of all I pre- 
scribed for her headache; the medicine went 
down the wrong way, which caused her to 
vomit, after which she declared she felt bet- 
ter. My professional pride did not permit 
me to enlighten her as to the unexpected re- 
sult of my prescription. I say professional 
pride, because I went by the nickname of the 
Doctor on account of an emergency case I 
carried with me. 

I made myself useful In doing most of the 
chores usual on such occasions, while the guide 
held the baby, which howled Incessantly. The 
expression on his face while performing this 
duty was as angelic as I have seen it when 
Old Jim would lead the whole pack off on a 
chase after a coyote against his impotent pro- 
test. When the meal was served, two other 
children turned up, one a little girl nine years 
old, who was censured for not taking care of 
the baby; the other a boy of about eleven, 

57 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

who was particularly good, according to his 
mother's account of him. Our first day's ex- 
perience with these interesting children caused 
us to reverse* the parental opinion. When we 
returned from our hunt the evening of the 
following day, the guide missed his lasso ; the 
good little boy had tried to lasso a cat which 
was selecting some delicacies from a tin can, 
the cat took a sudden leap to escape the lasso, 
and In doing so shoved Its head Into the can 
and cinched the lasso round its body; cat, can 
and lasso disappeared In the sage brush and 
were never found. 

The country around Bear River Canon is 
very rough and picturesque. The canon is 
steep and cuts a great gorge In the mountain, 
and Is very difficult to cross. In one place 
we were headed off by the precipice, which 
must have been fully a thousand feet In depth ; 
I rolled a stone off the edge, and its descent 
seemed to take a considerable time. A shower 
of broken fragments and dust, followed a 

S8 



Rounding Up Cats in Colorado 

second or two afterward by a dull crash which 
reverberated through the cafion, announced 
the termination of Its fall. 

The dogs finally succeeded In jumping a 
Hon, running right upon him. From a dls- 
tance I could see the chase along the side of 
a mountain until It turned In the direction of 
the caiion. The Hon did not seem to be g(5lng 
very fast while covering the ground by long 
leaps, which he appeared to do without much 
effort; but when I looked at the pack, which 
did not seem to be gaining on him, they were 
straining every nerve, and looked as If they 
were "going it for all they were worth." No 
doubt the easy gait of the lion made his speed 
deceptive. The Hon took refuge upon a ledge 
of the precipice some fifteen feet below the 
crest. When we arrived at the spot the dogs 
were raising an awful din in their impotent 
frenzy, as they looked down upon the smiling 
countenance of the Hon, which was displaying 
all his teeth. It was thought inadvisable to 

59 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

shoot the Hon on the ledge where he was, be- 
cause there was a good chance of his dying In 
an inaccessible spot, so we dropped stones on 
him, hoping to drive him out of that place 
and compel him to run to the top of the 
precipice and take refuge in a tree. 

For some time the lion savagely snapped at 
the stones, much to our diversion. In their 
eagerness to see the lion the dogs crowded one 
another near the edge of the precipice, and 
occasionally crowded me. As I leaned over 
to drop a stone on the lion's tail a big 
dog planted his forefeet on my shoulders. 
Perhaps he did this to get a better view, 
or it may have been because he was not 
able to say "down in front," that he 
adopted this method of giving me a gentle 
hint that I was obstructing his view. The 
action was not pleasant to me. I did not relish 
the Idea of being shoved over the precipice 
and dashed to pieces below, with the possible 

alternative of landing on the ledge where the 

60 



Rounding Up Cats in Colorado 

lion was located. Our efforts at last resulted 
In causing the tormented beast to seek refuge 
elsewhere. After abandoning the ledge he ran 
upon the top of the precipice and came so 
close to me that I could have touched him — 
but I didn't. A little foxhound ventured too 
close and his Impertinence was rewarded by 
a snap from the Hon which grazed the dog's 
head and slit his ear In twain. Instead of 
taking to a tree, as we had vainly hoped, the 
Hon discovered a way of getting down upon 
another ledge of the precipice, more Inacces- 
sible than the first, and became concealed from 
view. It became evident that we were taking 
too many chances, so the guide and myself 
found a way, very steep and rough, below the 
lion's last resort, where It was just possible 
to see, several hundred feet away, the head 
and neck of the animal. I took careful aim 
and fired. The bullet went a little higher 
than I Intended, breaking the lower jaw. I 

wished to preserve the skull entire for a 

6i 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

mount; but the character of the wound in- 
flicted made this impossible. In spite of the 
injury received the tawny form glided along 
the almost perpendicular side of the precipice, 
picking out here and there a foot rest to aid 
in its ascent. I fired another shot, which 
struck behind the shoulder, but did not stop 
the animal from reaching the top of the 
precipice, where the dogs soon discovered 
him. I was not too late to see some of the 
fight. In the scrimmage the lion got Turk's 
head partly in his mouth, and for a moment I 
felt alarmed on account of the dog. For- 
tunately, the lion's lower jaw refused to work, 
and Turk got off with light punishment — 
merely a scalp wound, from which the blood 
flowed freely. 

I began to arrange my camera, intending 
to take a snap-shot of the melee, but the shade 
of the trees made the light bad for an instan- 
taneous photograph, the only one that could 
be taken of a moving scene; the guide, 

63 



Rounding Up Cats in Colorado 

seeing my dilemma, caught hold of the lion's 
tail, while still fighting the dogs, and dragged 
the tangled bunch a few yards down the side 
of the hill into the sunlight. When this was 
done the lion was dead, and I was not able to 
accomplish my purpose. As I surveyed my 
first lion trophy I could not help admiring the 
game fight it had put up against hopeless 
odds. There could be no skepticism respect- 
ing the execution of its terrible teeth, for not 
a few wounds were inflicted on the dogs. 
The beast must have weighed 170 to 180 
pounds, and its skin was in fine condition ; but, 
unfortunately, the skull was ruined. 

After hard hunting for about a week, the 
dogs took up a fresh scent, and in a short 
time they treed a small lion which the guide 
called a "kitten," because it was not full 
grown. The branches of the tree were quite 
close together and near the ground. One of 
the dogs managed to climb a considerable 
way up the tree by the aid of the easy support 

63 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

the branches afforded, and was in some peril. 
The report of my rifle helped to swell the 
chorus of the dogs, which only abated when 
their jaws were employed to a better purpose 
on the struggling "kitten." The poor beast 
which had climbed the tree remained a dis- 
appointed spectator of the fight, being unable 
to take part. Afterward I helped him down 
from his ridiculous although somewhat dan- 
gerous position. 

On a number of occasions the dogs have 
climbed trees for a considerable distance above 
the ground. The piiion trees, where the lions 
frequently take refuge, are supplied with 
branches which begin to sprout near the base, 
rendering the feat easier of accomplishment, 
but nevertheless it is a remarkable sight to see 
a dog up a tree, sometimes furnishing an un- 
willing subject for a camera. Any one wish- 
ing to obtain some impression of how a dog 
would look in such an attitude can have his 
curiosity satisfied by examining the photo- 

64 




n^^.'^^:'^'i\ 



."^fc'twr 







»'7V 1. 



'•T-T 



4 




HITTING THE TRAIL. 



Rounding Up Cats in Colorado 

graphs of wild animals In Mr. Walllhan's 
remarkable book, where snap-shots were taken 
of some of the dogs which were In the pack I 
hunted with. 

We had barely skinned the ''kitten/' when 
at some distance we heard the pack baying 
another animal. We rode as rapidly as pos- 
sible In the direction we heard the noise. We 
soon arrived at the edge of the valley, which 
lay some five or six hundred feet below. The 
baying broke upon our hearing with great dis- 
tinctness. The country beneath was free from 
big timber, being dotted profusely with pliion 
trees and smaller growth, with here and there 
great pillars of red sandstone fashioned Into 
mushroom shapes by the erosion of the ele- 
ments through countless ages. In the clear, 
bright sunshine every object stood out with 
great distinctness, producing a curious and 
beautiful effect. 

It was an attractive sight to watch the pack 
as It swiftly coursed about In the valley. It 

65 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

finally disappeared around the base of the 
mountain. We took a short cut across the spur 
of the mountain and soon caught the steady 
baying of the dogs, and I knew that something 
was treed or cornered. On the side of a steep 
slope, which extended hundreds of feet down 
to the valley, stood a piiion tree with a fine, 
large Hon perched in its branches — a more 
beautiful pose for a photograph I could hardly 
Imagine. The light was good and the sur- 
roundings all that could be desired to produce 
the proper effect. The guide suggested a 
doubt in regard to the lion's remaining In his 
present position very long, and that one of us 
should cover him with a rifle while the other 
used the camera. My love of sport is not co 
platonic that I could readily forego the deadly 
part of the pastime for the aesthetic. So I 
held the rifle carefully pointed at a vital spot, 
and after a little space the animal quivered, 
as though just about in the act of taking a 
spring out of the tree, which, had he effected, 

66 



Rounding Up Cats in Colorado 

would have sent him down the slope at a speed 
that would have distanced the dogs; once at 
large in the rough country which spread 
through the valley, he would have given us 
another long and fatiguing chase, with a good 
chance of losing him. Before the trembling 
limbs could launch into space a bullet pierced 
his heart and he tumbled from his perch and 
rolled nearly a hundred feet down the moun- 
tain side, where his further descent was 
arrested by the dogs in no gentle fashion. The 
struggle with the lion was brief. The guide 
and myself had more of a struggle with the 
dogs in driving them away from the carcass. 

I was disappointed to learn that the guide 
had not succeeded in getting a photo. If I 
could have had a snap-shot with the camera at 
the lion close by, while in the act of springing, 
with satisfactory results, I would have had 
something of more value than the animal's 
skin. 

I added a few more trophies to my collec- 

67 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

tion before finishing my hunt for that season. 
My experience, however, had convinced me 
that the best reminiscences of a hunting trip 
are good photographs of wild animals In 
their natural state. The ease with which 
trophies can often be secured, so far as the 
question of skill Is concerned, has somewhat 
taken the keen edge off of my desire to kill. 
Securing a good trophy Is quite as often a 
question of time and patience as skill. Cool- 
ness is also required, for frequently easy shots 
are missed through being over anxious. 



68 



DUCK SHOOTING IN CALCASIEU 
PARISH. 

A FEW years ago, before a great Industry 
had been developed In the vicinity 
of Sulphur City, La., the natural condi- 
tions m that locality were favorable to the 
Increase of migratory game. The ground 
was low and marshy, but generally quite 
flat; forests of resinous pine spread over a 
considerable portion of the country. In 
some places the trees grew to Immense size, 
their massive trunks ascending for seventy- 
five or eighty feet without a branch. The 
soil In such localities being free from under- 
brush and covered with thick layers of pine 
needles, yielded pleasantly under the step like 
a soft plush carpet. Currents of air caress- 
ing the treetops Imparted the sound of the 
surf beating the shore at a distance. Stretches 

69 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

of open prairie covered with tall grass fur- 
nished feeding spots for large flocks of ducks 
and geese. When the attention was not too 
much absorbed with larger game, one might 
frequently hear the jacksnipe emit its peculiar 
whistle as it shaped a zigzag course in its 
flight. Other game was in less abundance. 
I engaged an old "red bone" to act as my 
guide. Legrand — the name by which I will 
introduce the new acquaintance — was really 
a Creole, but was said to have a cross of 
Indian blood, just enough to enable him to 
detect signs which escape the common eye. 
A faithful, quiet, uncomplaining man, but 
an excellent hunter according to his lights, 
Legrand had no liking for the new-fangled 
notions of modern sportsmen. He could 
crawl through the brush or long grass with 
all the stealthiness of a cat, every sense alert, 
and in spite of wet, cold or any kind of dis- 
comfort would doggedly stick to his task 

until his game was secured. To this old- 

70 



Duck Shooting in Calcasieu Parish 

fashioned hunter every cartridge must repre- 
sent something. He was not satisfied with 
"punching holes In the air." A story Is told 
of Legrand upon which I would not care to 
stake my reputation for veracity, although 
somewhat characteristic of the man. 

A ranchman living In that locality noticed 
a small bunch of teal that were In the habit 
of using In a pond not far from his dwelling. 
He requested Legrand to try his luck with 
them the next morning, when they could be 
easily found. Legrand, however, was short 
of ammunition, so the ranchman gave him 
a shell which he jokingly remarked was 
enough for a good shot, and he expected him 
to come back with the whole bunch, number- 
ing six. On the ensuing day Legrand de- 
parted before sunrise, but returned to break- 
fast empty handed. "No ducks, Legrand?" 
He shook his head; "No ducks." The next 
morning the result was the same. "No 
ducks, Legrand?" "No ducks." 

71 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

The third morning a shot was heard. 
Legrand returned with three beautiful blue- 
winged teal hanging from each shoulder. 

"Legrand, how did you manage to have 
so much luck all of a sudden, when you were 
not able to get anything the two preceding 
mornings?" 

''To-day," he replied, "was the first time 
I could get them lined up so that I could bag 
them all at one shot." 

It was my good fortune to make another 
Interesting acquaintance In a somewhat singu- 
lar way. One afternoon, when shooting on 
the edge of a marsh close by the house where 
I was sojourning, I became conscious of 
someone near at hand. Turning around I 
discovered an elderly man of dignified bear- 
ing, whose round ruddy face, ornamented 
with a long white flowing beard, rested upon 
broad shoulders and sturdy frame. The ex- 
pression of his countenance was mild and 
kindly, possessing a reflective cast, which was 

72 



Duck Shooting in Calcasieu Parish 

somewhat accentuated by a habit of slowly 
stroking his beard. Much Impressed, I re- 
garded him with a feeling of reverence. Had 
I been present at a revival meeting, the pose 
and genial appearance would have suited the 
occasion, silence having been secured by the 
exhortation, *Tet us pray." I broke the 
magic spell by politely asking the new arrival 
whether he was a sportsman and fond of 

shooting. "Can I shoot? By " (a blue 

streak a yard long Imparted all necessary 
emphasis). "Young man, before my eyes 
went back on me, old Uncle Dave could hit 
any living creature." 

After a brief conversation my new ac- 
quaintance cordially Invited me to visit him, 
and also extended the privilege of occupying 
his lodge at a place called Sabine Pass, about 
twenty miles away. This Is not the noted 
Sabine Pass In Texas, but merely a local 
name. All reports seemed to confirm the 
reputation of Sabine Pass, so I concluded to 

73 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

fit out an expedition. I chartered a prairie 
schooner and secured two horses which the 
guide said he could get for nothing. I was 
willing, however, to pay for what I got, but 
was put off with some dignity. The old say- 
ing, "Never look a gift horse in the mouth" 
seems somewhat in point, so I will be sparing 
of comments. Tt was a very safe team, but 
not much at annihilating space. A young 
man was engaged as cook. There was no 
other addition to the party, save an old one- 
eyed dog. 

A long, wearisome day's travel brought us 
to a sheet of water which surrounded the 
lodge. This resulted from the great quantity 
of moisture that had accumulated from heavy 
rainfalls. The cook rode ahead, exploring 
the way. The team tremulously negotiated 
the pass, but were soon In difficulties. One 
of them falling down In about four feet of 
water energetically strove to rise. Legrand, 
jumping into the icy water, began to fix the 

74 



Duck Shooting in Calcasieu Parish 

harness, which was no easy task. It was too 
dark to do anything, so the horses were un- 
coupled from the schooner and driven ashore. 
I mounted one horse behind the cook. The 
animal became refractory and varied the 
monotonous experience of the day by buck- 
ing for a brief space. Finally the ship- 
wrecked crew were able to leave the schooner 
in safety, with a few things absolutely neces- 
sary, but by no means with all that were 
desired. 

The bright glow of a fire in the open 
hearth of the lodge dispelled the gloom and 
discomfort of our surroundings, but Legrand 
was chilled to the bone and looked peaked 
and miserable. My sympathy was excited, 
and I prescribed a liberal dose from my 
flask which immediately revived him. Fortu- 
nately we had taken the precaution to cover 
the contents of the wagon, which otherwise 
would have suffered on account of the rain 
that fell during the night. Our meagre re- 

75 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

past finished, it was not a great while before 
one after another dozed off into fitful slum- 
ber. One blanket covered the forms of three 
men, and in place of under bedding and 
spring mattress we had the board floor. The 
steady pour of the rain resounded continually 
upon the roof, while the snap of the pine 
fagots mingled with the hiss of drops of 
water falling on the burning embers. It is 
not easy for three persons to sleep under one 
blanket resting upon a hard surface. The 
disposition to change position became a fixed 
habit with all three, but invariably the one 
who attempted it met with unreasonable 
objections and muttered protests from the 
other two. If one turned over all three had 
to follow suit. It seemed to be a case where 
the minority ruled, while the majority swore 
at the minority. The one-eyed dog, becoming 
restless from the cold when the fire went out, 
repeatedly attempted to find a place for him- 
self under the blanket, but discovered that a 

1^ 



Duck Shooting in Calcasieu Parish 

triple alliance had been formed to eliminate 
him completely. Finally he offered to com- 
promise by lying down on the outside of the 
blanket above our prostrate forms, but this 
accommodation was likewise unfeelingly re- 
jected. During that awful night every man's 
hand appeared to be against his neighbor and 
all three united against the dog. 

I was at length awakened from a semi- 
conscious condition by Legrand, who was 
about to light a fire. 

"What Is the matter, Legrand?" I in- 
quired. "Are you getting cold?" 

"It's time to get up." 

"What time Is It?" 

"About 4 o'clock." 

How he knew I could not guess, but I was 
only too ready to accept any excuse that 
would rescue me from almost the worst night 
I ever experienced. It was pitch dark, but 
the rain had ceased, and the noise of game 
stirring outside betokened the coming dawn. 

77 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

A dense fog hung over the prairie and when 
light began to make an impression It was like 
illuminating an opaque substance. It was 
Impossible to distinguish anything over six 
yards away. Having removed everything 
from the schooner the problem of dragging 
It to dry land did not concern us. 

The growing day was heralded by a per- 
fect Babel of voices. Invisible flocks of 
ducks numbering thousands frequently stirred 
the air with the rapid movements of their 
wings, which sounded like an express train. 
The measured honk of wild geese gave evi- 
dence of their presence in no beggarly num- 
bers. At intervals the brant in the long sour 
bog grass Invited an easy shot. When mat- 
ters were straightened out no time was lost 
in starting out for feathered game. 

The hunt began as soon as we stepped out- 
doors. Small bunches of ducks were passed 
by unnoticed. Legrand did not believe In 
wasting ammunition ; I only had five hundred 

78 



Duck Shooting in Calcasieu Parish 

shells. Presently we heard the calling of a 
large number of brant. That interested 
I.egrand. The fog had lifted somewhat, but 
still rendered objects indistinct unless they 
were close at hand. I Imitated Legrand in 
all his movements; first the quiet, cautious 
approach, gradually bending, until finally we 
were crawling on our stomachs through the 
grass and mud. We were already quite near 
the brant and I was becoming apprehensive 
lest we should delay too long. A large flock 
of teal unexpectedly attracted my attention 
on the left side and I motioned to Legrand. 
He shook his head, but I signified that I was 
satisfied to try my luck with them. Legrand 
disapproved but yielded to my suggestion, 
except that he drew a bead on the brant. 
The report of four barrels seemed almost 
muffled in the uproar caused by great flocks 
of birds rising in every direction, churning 
the air with their wings and filling space with 
a discordant conglomeration of sounds from 

79 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

every species of web-footed fowl on the 
prairie. When the gray mist had swallowed 
the black mass, a pleasant sight welcomed our 
eyes. The ground was plentifully covered 
with limp forms, a handsome tribute to the 
prowess of our guns. The beam of joy on 
Legrand's weatherbeaten face satisfied me 
that so far we had not been unduly wasteful 
of ammunition. Fearing lest there might be 
some lingering doubt in his mind on the sub- 
ject, I sought to console him with the reflec- 
tion that I still had four hundred and ninety- 
six shells left. 

No time was lost in collecting the game. 
I stuffed the big pockets of my hunting coat 
with teal and brant. Legrand fastened them 
to the fringes of his jacket until he was 
almost covered with the dark bodies of brant 
and the beautifully colored teal. I warned 
Legrand to kill every bird he gathered, but 
he was careless In carrying out my sugges- 
tion. On the way back to the lodge I heard 

80 



Duck Shooting in Calcasieu Parish 

behind me a flutter of wings and several 
quacks and caught a glimpse of a duck dis- 
appearing In the fog. Legrand was stand- 
ing In a state of stupefaction, staring In the 
direction the duck had flown. I could not 
help laughing. Needless to say he made sure 
of the rest. 

Surfeited with abundance of game, the 
pastime soon palled on me. After several 
days' sport I was ready to return to more 
comfortable quarters where the shooting was 
productive of smaller results, but more to my 
taste. Jacksnipe, which were quite plentiful, 
furnished an opportunity for skillful marks- 
manship, but the high standard of economy 
In using ammunition established for me by 
Legrand was shamefully lowered. Jacksnipe 
did not swarm before the muzzle of my gun, 
nor was one bagged In every shot. This kind 
of shooting Is excellent for training the eye, 
and no sportsman need be chagrined at an 
occasional miss. 

8i 



/ 



AN OUTING AT TWO-OCEAN PASS 

ROUGHING IT" is an expression 
which we have long associated with 
various hardships undergone for the sake of 
sport. But modern enterprise has made that 
phrase a misnomer when taken In the sense In 
which It was formerly understood. A number 
of years' experience In camping out and hunt- 
ing In the West have convinced me that every 
reasonable comfort can be enjoyed without 
sacrificing the principal object which lies 
nearest the heart of a thorough sportsman — 
good hunting. 

The last outing I had In the West, was In 
Wyoming, In the Jackson Hole country, and 
I realized then how thoroughly a guide, who 
enjoys the comforts of life himself and has 
the real love of sport, can contribute to the 
success of a hunting trip. A guide who likes 

82 





THE TETON RANGE. 



Outing at Two-Ocean Pass 

to make himself comfortable will generally 
think of what is necessary for the comfort of 
those who engage his services. 

Early in October I started out from St. 
Anthony, Idaho, with my guide, Ed. Sheffield, 
on one of the most pleasurable and successful 
hunts I have undertaken. A couple of days' 
drive and we reached Shives' ranch, at which 
place we made up the pack outfit. A short 
rest at this spot while things were being got in 
readiness was very pleasant, as it gave me a 
chance to stretch my limbs and to admire the 
grand perspective, which no words can de- 
scribe in a way that would bring the natural 
picture to the eye. The Teton peaks, cov- 
ered with perpetual snow and dazzling bright, 
furnished an attraction which never palled on 
the mind, and they were ever visible from 
the plain but tidy ranch. Flotks of ducks 
frequented the ice cold stream near by. 

The horses having been corralled during 
the day's wait, everything was arranged for 

83 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

the morning start. The next day I rose bright 
and early to commence the final stage of the 
journey. When the last pack had been 
"cinched" and everything was in readiness, 
we began our journey to the hunting grounds. 
It was a long, monotonous ride — much of it 
through thick timber with no stop for lunch 
or rest, because the heavily laden beasts could 
not lie down with their packs on, and we did 
not care to delay them. At length, after 
crossing a rocky ravine and a swift-running 
stream and climbing a steep ascent, we arrived 
at Two-Ocean Pass. There we found an 
ideal spot to camp. In a short time every- 
thing was unpacked, and the two tents were 
pitched. The tired beasts that had borne the 
brunt of the work tumbled over and rubbed 
their backs in the dust and snorted with 
delight. 

The next morning I started out on horse- 
back with Sheffield, while the ranchman, 
Shives, whom I had engaged as cook and 

84 



Outing at Two-Ocean Pass 

general helper, remained behind and minded 
camp. We took with us several dogs, because 
they might be useful In rounding up lions or 
"cats," as they frequently call the cougar or 
wildcats In that section. The day passed with- 
out result, except that I lost my Seltz spy- 
glasses, which hung on the pummel of my 
saddle by a leather strap; this had evidently 
caught on something and snapped. When the 
guide heard of the loss, he exclaimed with 
great confidence, "We must find them to- 
morrow." I was somewhat Inclined to be 
skeptical about his being able to recover the 
lost property, but I assented to his going out 
with a little dog he called Maiden, a cross of 
a black-and-tan foxhound and a bloodhound, 
as Intelligent an animal as I ever saw. He 
came back In a few hours with the glasses, and 
I was curious to learn how he managed to 
discover them. While following our trail 
of the day before, he had stopped to call the 
dog, which had fallen behind and stood yelp- 

85 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

Ing at something which he had passed; upon 
going to the spot, he found the glasses. They 
were not immediateiy in the Hne of the trail, 
but had rolled down hill and were some dozen 
feet away from it. I wonder If that dog had 
overheard our previous conversation and 
knew what we wanted ! 

Although for a couple of weeks the weather 
had been cool and exhilarating, often freezing 
at night, still we had as yet no snow. Snow 
was wanted, because it makes the hunting 
good, and when traveling the impress of the 
foot is practically noiseless, and does not 
alarm the game. Moreover, when the snow 
accumulates in deep drifts it drives the elk 
and deer out of the higher elevations down 
into the lower country, where they collect in 
large numbers and become less shy. 

One evening on the way back to camp the 
guide was explaining to me why he thought 
that we would be apt to find bull elk with the 
best heads separated from the bunch of cow 

86 



Outing at Two-Ocean Pass 

elk. The old bulls, it would seem, after a 
time are driven off by the younger bulls, 
which in turn take charge of the herds of 
cow elk. The conversation was suddenly in- 
terrupted, for on a knoll about 300 yards 
distant, we saw two fine bulls all by them- 
selves. To dismount and take aim with my 
Mauser after gauging the space, was a matter 
of a few seconds. The furthest of the two bulls 
was a stately monarch, and he had a set of 
antlers which tempted me as much as a crown 
could have tempted Caesar. The first shot 
fortunately took effect behind the shoulders 
and made him sag on his knees, but he im- 
mediately recovered and started to run. The 
next shot was over him, and, before I could 
fire again, the other bull ran in between and 
blanketed him, receiving the ball. They 
stood for several seconds in that position, 
while two more messengers of death sang a 
doleful dirge on their errand of destruction, 
and they disappeared over the hill. 

87 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

The atmosphere In that country is naturally 
blue; but there was a tinge of blueness in 
the air at that time which I am sure was not 
natural. Sheffield said he was not the cause 
of It, and I know that I was not to blame. 
I have heard of somebody swearing until the 
air became blue, but this does not seem to be 
one of those cases. 

However, we were both convinced that the 
first bull was hit twice at least, and more than 
likely would not go' a great ways. It was 
inexpedient to follow him up at that time, 
because he was still fresh and strong. It 
seemed best to go back to camp and come out 
the next day and track him, because he would 
be likely to run only a short distance, and 
lying down to rest, would become stiff, and 
incapable of running, in which case he could 
be found In the morning. On the other hand, 
if pursued, he might continue to run while 
his strength held. 

With anxious hearts we returned to camp, 

88 



Outing at Two-Ocean Pass 

noting with apprehension the lowering clouds 
that were beginning to darken the sky. The 
indications of a storm which would cover the 
ground with snow were not welcome now, as 
much as I had desired it previously. Fresh 
snow would conceal the tracks and destroy the 
scent on the ground. If that should happen, 
I had small expectation of securing my trophy. 
The next morning the guide looked into my 
tent, and said that everything was covered 
with snow. I immediately went out to see 
for myself. There, sure enough, it lay several 
inches deep. It covered the trees, bending the 
branches under their weight and transform- 
ing, as if by magic, the rugged landscape Into 
a fairyland. It was beautiful — but it was 
disappointing. 

After breakfast we set out, taking one of 
the dogs with us. When we reached the spot 
where the elk had been shot the keen-scented 
dog began to sniff the tops of the sage brush 
which stood about two feet high. We fol- 

89 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

lowed him as he confidently pursued his way 
through the sage brush and timber, until 
finally, ascending a small knoll, I espied, just 
over the crest, the tops of the antlers spread 
out like the branches of a tree. The elk was 
stretched out in beautiful repose, his neck 
supported against a fallen tree, which held 
up his antlers. 

At last my trophy was won, and I had 
something to show to admiring friends. 

For the present the keen edge was taken 
off my desire to kill, because I had something 
to take back as a memento of the trip. A fine 
trophy serves to identify most appropriately 
a hunting experience, and as the years roll by 
the memories of certain camps cluster about 
each head and revive thrilling scenes which 
might otherwise become dimmed amid an 
uncongenial environment. 

A considerable portion of my remaining 
time I spent in easy life in camp. The meat 
was a welcome addition to the larder and 

90 



Outing at Two-Ocean Pass 

was much appreciated by the dogs. When 
first killed, the flesh of the bull elk Is not par- 
ticularly toothsome; it should be allowed to 
hang for a time until It becomes tender. 

It was an entertaining sight to see the dogs 
catch the large hunks of meat flung to them, 
which they often swallowed without masticat- 
ing It, unless one or two bites could be exag- 
gerated Into an act of mastication. When 
hunger was appeased to the extent of a sur- 
feit, the cunning animals would still continue 
to accept gifts of raw. meat, which they would 
carefully cache In some favorite spot. Each 
dog knew where he had cached his own sup- 
plies, and expected every other dog to respect 
it. Occasional disputes arose among them, but 
— though with a bad grace^ — the dog with a 
guilty conscience generally yielded when de- 
tected in the act of violating the law which 
holds a cache sacred among dogs as among 
men. 

There are certain very simple and rudl- 

91 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

mentary laws which the primitive life 
develops. The rule that the cache shall 
remain inviolate Is well known. The absence 
of adequate protection for a cache beyond Its 
secrecy, which is not always sufficient, makes 
It a point of honor among the rough denizens 
of the wilderness to respect property so de- 
posited. In a primitive state of society, when 
recourse to such means of providing for 
emergency were more frequent, the frontier 
man was likely to regard as worthy of death 
any one who violated this law. 

When I read of the ruthless slaughter 
which has been wrought among the elk, espe- 
cially by the detestable tooth-hunter, I recall, 
with some degree of satisfaction, the for- 
bearance which I exercised upon various occa- 
sions. One evening, while returning to camp, 
I saw in the waning light, about the space of 
three hundred and fifty yards removed from 
where I stood, three bull elk standing on the 
side of a hill, their forms fairly well defined 

92 



Outing at Two-Ocean Pass 

against the white background which the snow 
afforded. The antlers were less distinct on 
account of the deadening effect of some spruce 
trees, whose branches reached below the 
spread of the antlers. I wanted another 
trophy, but was uncertain about the quality 
of any one of the heads In sight. Although I 
watched the bulls for some time, while they 
remained practically without motion, I was 
unable to make sure that there was a really 
first-class head in the bunch. I finally gave 
them the benefit of the doubt. If I made a 
mistake, I have the satisfaction of knowing 
that I erred on the right side. 

The time arrived for breaking up camp. 
When the horses were packed, the guide and 
myself separated from the rest of the outfit, 
in order to secure better hunting. We had not 
traveled far, when one of the dogs stopped 
and growled. We both reined up, while I 
dismounted and approached the edge of a 
clearing just ahead. Across the clearing some 

93 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

eighty or ninety yards distant I saw a brown 
body disappearing amid the spruces. Aiming 
at the spot where the shoulder should be, 
concealed by the forest gro»wth, a trifle In ad- 
vance of the brown, which I recognized as 
the belly of the elk, I fired. Stunned by the 
bullet, the animal broke Into another opening, 
when I emptied my magazine, which con- 
tained several additional cartridges. For- 
tunately the animal turned out to be a bull 
elk with a fairly good spread. I shoiuld not 
have taken the chance except that my hunting 
for this season was practically over, and I 
had not shot my full allowance. Having 
dressed the animal so as to keep Its meat from 
spoiling, we left everything and followed the 
outfit. Shives was sent back with a pack 
horse to get the meat and the antlers. 

At the Shives ranch a hearty welcome was 
given us. Mrs. Shives proved herself an 
admirable hostess. I shall never forget the 
repast specially prepared for us by which she 

94 




BREAKING CAMP. 



Outing at Two-Ocean Pass 

proved herself an accomplished cook. One 
dish I approached with misgiving, for I could 
not guess what it was. I discovered in it a 
culinary gem which in my judgment will hold 
its own with anything ever prepared by the 
most accomplished chef to please a capricious 
palate — elk's brain scrambled in eggs. My 
cup of happiness was filled to the brim, but 
the guide caused it to run over when he pre- 
sented me with a pair of untanned cow skin 
shaps marked with red and white spots, which 
he wore when dressed up to have his picture 
taken in correct style. 



95 



CAMP LIFE NEAR THE TETONS 

ONE of the most picturesque sections of 
our country lies in the valleys and de- 
pressions formed by the Gallatin River where 
It winds its way among the rugged moun- 
tains of Montana. Sometimes the river steals 
noiselessly through level spots, forming great 
pools of clear greenish water, where the big 
rainbow trout love to bask in the sunshine 
which the gamy fish love for its brightness 
more than its warmth. Frequently the 
stream challenges the obstructions of masses 
of rock, forcing Its way with angry murmurs 
to its destination. Amid such scenes I fell 
IntO' repose, while sitting near a large camp- 
fire, yielding to the heaviness due to a hearty 
meal and a long day's travel on horseback. 
I do not remember how I managed to 
make up my rustic bed, or whether I had 

96 



Camp Life Near the Tetons 

anything to do with it at all. I simply recall 
the quiet scenes around the camp-fire, the 
ruddy faces of my companions as they caught 
the glow from the burning fagots and the 
wild scene which surrounded us. I entered 
dreamland In the same way everyone else 
does. The unreal realm of fancy I accepted 
as a matter of course, but when the chill of 
a cold autumn night gradually revived me 
to consciousness and the sullen gloom of the 
silent forest, only broken by a murmuring 
stream nearby, had succeeded the cheerful 
camp-fire, I returned to the world of reality 
with a feeling of strangeness and wonder. I 
rubbed my eyes to make sure If I was really 
awake, and lay watching the stars shining 
brightly overhead. The beauty of the night, 
however, was not sufficient to keep me awake, 
and when I had finished my night's rest it 
was broad daylight, and my tT\^o companions, 
Jake and Aleck, were already astir. Aleck was 
the cook and general handy man about camp. 

97 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

Jake acted as guide and horse wrangler. 
These men could take a turn at helping each 
other, but each had his special work cut out 
for him. In packing and pitching tents they 
were mutually helpful. Whenever things 
went wrong and descriptive language was 
required to soothe Irritated feelings, their 
common desire to aid each other developed 
Into a generous rivalry. Aleck was busy 
getting breakfast ready, but the other man 
was not In sight. 

'Where is Jake?" I asked. 
"Gone after the horses," Aleck answered 
"Do you suppose they are gone far?" 
"Oh, maybe a mile, maybe fifteen," was 
the enlightening response. 

When camping out In the Western country 
horses are an uncertain quantity. They are 
apt to wander over a considerable space in 
search of good pasturage, which is not easy 
to find on account of the extreme dryness of 
the soil and the difficulty of any vegetation 

98 



Camp Life Near the Tetons 

thriving which cannot shoot its roots deep 
into the earth. Fortunately Jake soon ap- 
peared with the stock. 

"We will have the tents up so that you 
can be comfortable to-night," he remarked 
with a look as though he were conveying a 
most welcome piece of intelligence, for we 
had been sleeping out in the open for several 
nights. 

With the air of one who despised all such 
things as enervating luxuries, I replied : 
"Let that go to some other time; we want 
to get an early start after something." 

"It won't take long to put up the tents and 
then Aleck can get everything else to rights 
while we are hunting," Jake replied. 

I ate a substantial breakfast, and after 
finishing that meal I ate a substantial lunch 
before starting. Needless to say, I felt in 
no condition for vigorous exercise which I 
would be compelled to take when our course 
led over ascents too steep to take on horse- 

99 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

back. About lunch time, however, my 
capricious and unreasoning stomach, like 
some people who are mere slaves of custom 
and routine, demanded a square meal, which 
was not to be had. 

Two dogs, which served more as sociable 
companions about camp than In any other 
capacity, accompanied us. One of the dogs 
was a large-sized bull-terrier, rather old and 
at times Inclined to be cross. This animal 
answered to the name of Major. Major had 
a peculiar trait, which It Is hard to account 
for. In the evening, when the cook pulled 
out his harmonlcon and began to perform 
on It, Major would stick his nose straight up 
In the air and emit the most doleful and 
lugubrious wall I ever listened to. 

The other dog was a fox-terrier, named 
Jack, like most of his species, a very animated 
little creature, always ready for a scrap. 
This disposition was a source of annoyance 
at times, because Jack had a strong prejudice 

100 



Camp Life Near the Tetons 

against porcupines, and on several occasions 
I have had to sit on the ground and help pull 
the quills out of his hide after one of these 
encounters. 

As I was leisurely riding along some dis- 
tance behind the guide I saw him stop on a 
slight elevation somewhat in advance, and 
at the same time I heard the dogs barking 
very savagely. Jake made a sign to me to 
hurry up. When I arrived at the spot I saw 
a couple of coyotes not more than forty yards 
away yelping and tantalizing the dogs. I 
dismounted, after pulling my rifle out of its 
scabbard, and brought it carelessly to my 
shoulder. Jake in the meantime had un- 
sheathed his knife ready to strip the hides. 

I fired, and, much to my surprise, both of 
the coyotes vanished with startling sudden- 
ness. I had ev^Idently missed, probably over- 
shooting. I think It was about the w^orst 
shot I ever made, and I never could under- 
stand it. A sportsman will once in a while 

lOI 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

flinch through some muscular contraction 
which it is hard to account for. The thick 
sage brush and intervening hills made a 
second shot practically hopeless. Jake 
seemed overcome with emotion, quite as 
much as myself. For once his eloquent 
tongue failed him; the words appeared to 
stick In his throat. His wide open eyes and 
his distended jaws, which seemed to be pried 
open with a quid of tobacco in one corner of 
his mouth, betrayed his astonishment. In 
silence we remounted and rode a considerable 
space without speaking a word. 

Finally Jake opened the conversation with 
all the tact of an accomplished diplomat. 

Turning In his saddle and looking Intently 
at me he exclaimed: "Say, do you know 
what I would do if I missed a shot like that?" 

"No," I repHed. 

*'I would take that gun and smash It over 
the first rock I came across." 

I quite agreed with him that It was the 

102 



Camp Life Near the Tetons 

fault of the gun, but, strange to say, I did 
not take his advice. I still have the weapon 
and I can recall some of its achievements, 
which are not wholly discreditable. 

Several days passed quite uneventfully 
except for a rather novel experience. While 
sitting around the camp-fire one evening our 
attention was attracted by the noise of some 
animal breaking through the undergrowth. 
The sound of cracking branches and patter- 
ing hoofs seemed to approach closer. 

"That's one of the horses, and he seems 
Inclined to be sociable," said Jake as he 
leaned over to lay hold of a good-sized stick 
to cast at him. 

The animal presently appeared, coming 
straight to the camp-fire, but when fairly 
revealed by the light the horse we were about 
to drive unceremoniously away developed a 
splendid set of antlers. We were confronted 
by a black-tailed deer which had been 
attracted by the strange fascination of the 

103 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

blaze to within several paces, where he stood 
perfectly still. No one moved nor uttered 
a word for a considerable space for fear of 
alarming our timid guest. It was a charm- 
ing sight to watch the graceful and shapely 
form of the deer, his head crowned with a 
perfectly balanced set of antlers, the wide 
open eyes staring in bewilderment at three 
rough looking men sitting around the fire like 
petrified images. The deer held his position 
for some thirty seconds rigid and immovable, 
except the swelling of his sides in breathing, 
while the glowing embers brought out In 
distinct view every line and muscle of the 
body against the dark background of the 
forest. 

He posed like a beautiful statue with all 
the advantage of picturesque and weird sur- 
roundings to set off his perfect figure. 

What a chance for a photographer to take 
a snapshot of the group with a flashlight. 
Sad to relate, the only Impression I could 

104 



Camp Life Near the Tetons 

take away with me was that which was 
photographed upon my mind. In place of 
a photograph to show to my friends I am 
compelled to relate the bare circumstance 
with but limited power to portray the scene 
in words ; the imagination of the reader must 
do the rest. 

How long the tableau would have lasted 
I cannot say, if I had not pulled the curtain, 
so to speak, by attempting to reach out and 
get my rifle, which was nearby. I knew it 
was a desperate chance, but I was extremely 
anxious to secure the head of our handsome 
guest. 

Hardly had I attempted to move my hand 
in the direction of the rifle, although very 
slowly, than the watchful eyes seemed to be- 
come conscious of something wrong, and the 
spell was broken. With a single leap the 
deer cleared the lighted space and was lost 
in the darkness of the forest. 

It is a well known fact that wild animals 

105 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

and birds are stupefied at the appearance of 
artificial light. Birds are often attracted by 
it, while animals, dazed by the strangeness 
of the sight and the glare, seem to lose at 
times all power of motion. Whether it is 
because of curiosity or on account of the 
judgment becoming paralyzed through ex- 
cessive fear, artificial light of great intensity 
seems to deprive a wild animal of his usual 
cunning and alertness. Wildfowl, such as 
ducks and geese, are notably affected in the 
same way. "Firelighting," which it is well 
known, involves the destruction of so many 
thousands of game birds every year, fairly 
illustrates and proves the foregoing state- 
ment. Insects seem strangely attracted by 
artificial lights and frequently pay for their 
temerity with their lives. What impression 
artificial light makes upon wild animals it is 
hard to state. Sportsmen know how easily 
a deer can be taken at a disadvantage by 

"jacking," but this does not account for one 

io6 



Camp Life Near the Tetons 

entering the lighted circle of a camp-fire. 
Instances of wild animals being approached 
when stupefied by the presence of artificial 
light are plentiful, but I have never known 
before of any animal actually invading a 
camp and standing in front of the fire. 

When we had exhausted comment upon 
the unusual incident, which was the absorb- 
ing theme for conversation for the balance of 
the evening, a good night's sleep came as 
relaxation from the exercise of the day. 

The morning broke bright and clear and 
quite cold. Breakfast was soon bolted down. 
An abomination which Aleck called a pan- 
cake was the principal article of our repast. 
This dish compensated by its size and quan- 
tity for what it lacked in other respects. Even 
Jake, whose digestion might excite the envy 
of an ostrich, hesitated before tackling a 
second one. Aleck, seeing his uncertain look, 
asked him whether he would have another 
pancake. 

107 



Camp Life Near the Tetons 

eagle strove to balance himself on his perch, 
and then he collapsed in a lifeless mass, a 
few feet below. 

Having watched the lifeless shape a few 
seconds, I reloaded the rifle without betray- 
ing any signs of emotion or uttering a word. 
Although my eyes were turned in a different 
direction, I felt conscious of a penetrating 
gaze which seemed to go through me like an 
X-ray and read my inmost thought. Turn- 
ing to mount my horse, I met the wide-open 
eyes of Jake staring at me in astonishment. 
Neither of us said a word for some time, but 
Jake was thinking, wondering whether it was 
an accident or a fair exhibition of my skill. 
The only data he had to work on in drawing 
his conclusions was the previous bad marks- 
manship in shooting at the coyotes, and the 
telling recent shot at the eagle, which I 
seemed to regard as a matter of course, but 
I acted the same way when I missed the 
coyotes. 

109 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

Jake displayed the same resourcefulness 
that a curious woman will sometimes exercise 
upon receiving a letter: first she looks at 
the post-mark, then at the handwriting of 
the address and, after exhausting all the pros 
and cons to determine what the contents of 
the letter are, finally strikes upon a happy 
Idea — she opens the letter and reads It. 
After Jake had thoroughly turned the Inci- 
dent over In his mind he finally remarked, 
In a tone pitched between an exclamation 
and an Interrogation point: "I guess you 
were surprised when you fetched that bird 
down?" My presence of mind did not leave 
me; I gave Jake good advice about marks- 
manship and shooting In general. He 
thanked me and said he hoped I would give 
him some points about guiding and outfitting, 
as he was trying to learn the business. 

Game being rather scarce In this section 
we concluded to move camp and try our luck 
In the Jackson's Hole country. For a short 

no 



Camp Life Near the Tetons 

time I made headquarters near a ranch on 
Jackson's Lake. This body of water is 
situated quite close to the Grand Tetons, 
which tower thousands of feet above its sur- 
face. The crest of these great formations, 
like a mighty arm stretching a curtain over 
the western sky, receives the rays of the morn- 
ing sun long before they reach the narrow 
valley below. It is interesting and beautiful 
to see the golden light slowly creeping down 
the slopes of these great mountains, until at 
last the sun, having climbed well into the 
sky, suddenly pours its golden flood of light 
in one immense deluge into the lake. The 
transition is startling. 

The trout in the lake grow to a very large 
size and are very gamy. There are a few 
hot springs in this locality which, however, 
do not affect the temperature of the water, 
which is very cold the year round. The lake 
derives its main supply from the melting 
snows of the surrounding mountains. 

Ill 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

I concluded to enjoy a morning's sport 
fishing, and for that purpose secured a boat 
from the ranchman who threw in his services 
as well. We poled up the outlet, which was 
a very clear and swift stream. The trout 
swarmed under the boat at times in great 
numbers and many of them of considerable 
size. Flocks of wild ducks and geese, wing- 
ing their way to their feeding grounds, broke 
the stillness of the early morning, for it was 
before daybreak that we started, when the 
stars were beginning to pale in the sky. The 
trout made their presence quite noticeable, 
frequently disturbing the surface of the 
water, and sometimes a big one would stir 
up an awful commotion. I soon had a seven- 
pound trout securely hooked, which I landed 
as soon as I was able to do so, because I 
wanted a change of diet. 

Although I had been in camp for a couple 
of weeks I had been unable to get a shot at 
an elk, and had only seen one making its way 

112 



Camp Life Near the Tetons 

through the thick timber. The snow had not 
fallen as yet, and the ground was very dry, 
which made hunting difficult. It was a wel- 
come sight one morning to look out of my 
tent and see the ground covered with snow, 
and it is, moreover, surprising to notice what 
a difference it makes in hunting. I had not 
traveled more than two miles from camp on 
foot when I heard a long, loud whistle — a 
most pleasing sound. I directed my steps in 
the direction whence it came, and was re- 
warded by catching a glimpse of half a dozen 
elk disappearing through an opening in the 
timber. They were not going fast, and I 
do not believe they saw me. 

I followed them as quickly and carefully 
as I could until I came tO' the edge of a steep 
descent, and saw th^ bunch in the valley 
below. In the herd there was a fine bull 
who seemed proud of his authority, and 
occasionally whistled and bugled his chal- 
lenge to any possible rival disposed to dispute 

113 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

his lordship over the cows he had assembled 
around him, which by this time had consider- 
ably increased in numbers. The distance 
seemed too great to hazard a shot, and I 
thought I would circle around on the higher 
elevations to secure a closer range and better 
position. Although unfrightened, the elk 
began to move off with a gentle ambling gait 
which seems slow, but if one tries to keep up 
with it in a rough mountainous country he 
will find his energy pretty well taxed. I soon 
lost sight of the game and stopped partly 
because I was almost exhausted and also to 
locate the herd, if it were possible to hear it. 
At first I thought I heard the hoof beats 
on the ground, but presently recognized that 
it was the action of my heart, which was beat- 
ing so forcibly that I could distinctly hear 
it. The high elevation and the vigorous 
exercise often produce that effect upon one 
who Is not used to the climate. Other sports- 
men have had a similar experience. After 

114 



Camp Life Near the Tetons 

pursuing my course some distance along the 
side of a steep hill my attention was suddenly 
arrested by the sound of breaking branches 
In the spruce nearby. I had not long to wait 
before a spike-horned elk stepped out In 
front of me not more than twenty-five or 
thirty yards off. The large brown eyes were 
looking straight at me with a mildness and 
apparent absence of fear, which removed all 
thought of slaughter from my mind, although 
at that time I had never killed an elk. 

The poor quality of the head as a trophy 
determined my action. After gazing a few 
seconds I turned my steps In the direction I 
thought the herd had taken Its course. A 
long, shrill whistle, ending In a squeal, 
blended with a bray like a donkey, soon In- 
formed me of the whereabouts of the bull I 
was seeking. Climbing over the crest of the 
hill I finally caught sight of the old bull In 
the valley with a bunch of cow elk collected 
around him, which had Increased by this time 

115 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

to about twenty-five or thirty. The bull 
frequently threw his head up, giving vent 
to his peculiar call, which was answered now 
and then by several other bulls on the sur- 
rounding hills, none of which seemed willing 
to venture near him. I watched this 
spectacle for some time, endeavoring to get 
near enough to obtain a good shot. 

Being alone and unaccustomed to the 
country I was unable to gauge the distance 
correctly. When finally I stopped at the 
nearest point I could reach to secure a fair 
shot (I was using on that occasion a .45-90 
Winchester, not one of the modern high- 
power guns with a flat trajectory), I fired 
at the bull without effect and saw the whole 
bunch of cow elk come together in a solid 
mass and ascend the slope of the neighboring 
mountain. The cow elk acted as though 
panic-stricken, all striving to get as near the 
center of the bunch as possible while ascend- 
ing the slope and interfering considerably 

11(5 



Camp Life Near the Tetons 

with the movements of one another In so 
doing. The bull remained behind until the 
cows had gained a considerable start, and 
then followed them up the mountain. When 
I examined the distance from the spot where 
I stood when I fired at the bull to the point 
where he was located, I found it over 400 
yards. Being unaccustomed to gauging dis- 
tance at that time, I underestimated the range. 
The atmosphere is so clear that objects obtain 
a much clearer definition and seem at times 
nearer than they really are. A mistake in 
underestimating distance made a greater dif- 
ference with the old .45-90 than it would 
with modern high power rifles. I returned 
to camp burning with a desire to secure a 
good trophy. 

The next day I went out with Jake. We 
separated, agreeing to meet at a certain 
place, which, through some misunderstand- 
ing, we failed to accomplish. I soon ran 

upon the tracks of a big bull elk, which led 

117 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

directly up the steep side of a mountain. 
This I climbed for about six hundred feet 
with some trouble, when I noticed that the 
tracks had begun to turn and tended down- 
ward. I continued to follow them until they 
brought me again to the foot of the moun- 
tain, within about thirty feet of the point 
where I first started to trace them up. I 
finally ran across my guide again, and It was 
not long before his keen eyes picked out an 
elk at a distance of about two hundred and 
fifty yards, just visible among some spruce 
trees. It was a cow elk, and I was indis- 
posed to shoot It, but being reminded of the 
condition of the larder I concluded to try my 
luck. The crack of the rifle was followed 
by the disappearance of the animal in the 
timber, and I thought I had missed, but was 
reassured to the contrary, and when I reached 
the spot where the elk had stood I saw a few 
traces of blood, which shortly led to a brown 
form lying among the green spruce trees — 

ii8 



Camp Life Near the Tetons 

the elk was stone dead. Standing over Jake, 
who was engaged in dressing the elk, I asked 
him If he thought I ought to smash the rifle 
over a rock. Looking up from his dirty 
work, besmeared with perspiration and gore, 
he replied with a grin, "Not when she throws 
lead like that." 

My time was drawing to a close, and 
although I had abundant opportunities to kill 
animals with Inferior heads, that kind of 
sport did not satisfy me, and I left them to 
die a natural death, unless some tooth hunter 
has cut their existence short. 

The final day passed without result, and I 
had to leave for a later period a more suc- 
cessful hunt for trophies. 

The last night around the camp-fire Jake 

made entertaining by relating to me some of 

his personal experiences. The following 

story was told me as absolutely true: The 

guide had struck the trail of a mountain lion, 

which he followed with his pack of dogs to 

119 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

a tree where the trail ended. Naturally he 
expected to find the Hon in the tree. Much 
to his surprise there was no lion in the tree, 
and no tracks of a lion leading away from the 
tree. The only tracks discernible were the 
tracks of an elk. Finally a bloodhound in 
the pack started off on the elk tracks. This 
seemed very strange, because the dogs had 
been thoroughly broken from following any- 
thing except lions and bobcats. The guide 
tried to call the dog back, but he continued 
to follow the elk tracks, and the rest of the 
pack joined in the pursuit. Following the 
tracks about a quarter of a mile, there ap- 
peared in the snow signs of a struggle, and 
then an impression upon the ground of a 
large animal which the elk had evidently un- 
seated. The lion's tracks were distinctly 
visible from this point for a considerable 
distance, until he took refuge in a pinyon 
tree. 

It was plain that the mountain Hon had 

120 




PACK HORSES ROUNDED UP FOR THE RETURN, 



Camp Life Near the Tetons 

jumped upon the back of a passing elk and 
had stolen a free ride, which he enjoyed until 
his saddle horse dismounted him. "That 
shows what a wonderfully Intelligent animal 
a dog is," said Jake; "just to think that they 
should have reasoned It out that the Hon had 
ridden off on the elk, when I was puzzled 
myself to find out what had become of him." 
"Do you suppose," chimed in Aleck, "that 
the dogs showed Intelligence because they 
knew more than you did?" 



121 



BLOODLESS SPORT 

THERE has developed In recent years a 
sentiment which has declared Itself 
strongly In opposition to taking animal life 
for the sake of sport. The camera has been 
recommended as a substitute for the death- 
dealing firearm. A great many people have 
discussed this subject without possessing a 
clear idea of what constitutes real sport. 

To obtain a better understanding of the 
subject we may classify those who hunt for 
the purpose of destroying wild life under 
three divisions : sportsmen, market hunters 
and butchers. The last expression I have 
employed In a peculiar sense as Indicating a 
very objectionable class In Itself. By a pro- 
cess of elimination one may arrive at the true 
conception of a sportsman after first grasp- 
ing the meaning of the term market hunter 

122 



Bloodless Sport 

and butcher, and then disabusing the mind of 

both of those conceptions. The term butcher 

is applicable to whomever engages in the 

wanton and wasteful destruction of animal 

life with no idea of utilizing the remains. 

To the mind of such persons a sportsman's 

goal is a slaughter pen. The game butcher 

recognizes no rules, but prides himself on 

the amount of havoc he can produce in a 

flock of birds or a herd of wild animals, and 

speaks with glee of the quantity of game he 

has destroyed. The market hunter, as the 

name implies, is out for business. The rules 

of sport do not interest him; it is merely a 

question of dollars and cents; he kills when 

it pays to kill, and tries to make certain every 

shot, regarding any advantage he can take as 

perfectly legitimate. The worst qualities of 

the butcher and the market hunter combine 

in the person who hunts elk for the purpose 

of securing the teeth, allowing the antlers 

and carcass to remain unused. The sins of 

123 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

these two classes are indiscriminately laid on 
the shoulders of the sportsman by people who 
have a misty idea about real sport. 

The desire to kill is instinctive, and, re- 
fined under civilizing influences, produces the 
sportsman. The mere love of killing for the 
sake of doing so soon palled on people who 
had any conception of sport. The true theory 
of sport, whether in playing games or in hunt- 
ing, necessarily involves the idea of a contest 
or trial of skill wherein there is a certain 
element of chance. The rapid destruction of 
game, consequent upon the easy mastery of 
nature by man, led in quite early times to the 
establishment of game preserves and the en- 
actment of laws for the preservation of game. 
The killing of game developed into a pastime, 
and rules regulating its enjoyment readily 
grew out of this method of recreation. In 
other words it came to be regarded as a sport 
or game wherein the hunted had rights or 
privileges which had to be respected the same 

124 



Bloodless Sport 

as those of a contestant in any other game; 
the huntsman must exercise his ingenuity and 
sometimes his daring and endurance against 
the cunning and desperation of the wild 
beast. It Is obvious from the foregoing ex- 
planation that no sportsman countenances 
killing, except for a purpose, and prefers to 
give the game a chance to exercise its clever- 
ness and adroitness in making good its escape ; 
if It fails. It has been outwitted. The obser- 
vance of game laws for the preservation of 
game find no stronger advocates anywhere 
than among sportsmen, and it is to their in- 
terest to prevent the extermination of wild 
life, because if that should take place their 
pastime would be gone. 

There are a number of enlightened people, 
however, who distinctly disapprove of a 
sportsman's favorite amusement and regard 
hunting and killing game for recreation as 
altogether wrong. An examination into this 
state of feeling with a view of ascertaining 

125 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

whether it Is based upon a clearly defined 
reason, or is merely a capricious sentiment, 
may be instructive. All animal life in one way 
or another exists or is sacrificed for the bene- 
fit of humanity. No one can reasonably 
combat this assertion. By the very instinct 
of his being, man assumes to have an unques- 
tioned right to subject the lower order of 
created life to his use. This assertion of his 
authority dates from the beginning when the 
fiat was delivered — "Let him have dominion 
over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl 
of the air, and over every living thing that 
moveth upon the face of the earth!" In 
what way shall this authority be exercised? 
Human necessity or convenience alone has 
determined that question without the brute 
creation being considered. The beast that is 
reduced to servitude, and compelled to work 
the balance of his existence, finds no advocate 
for his emancipation; no protest is made 

against the wholesale slaughter of cattle to 

126 



Bloodless Sport 

supply the meat market. But when the 
sportsman goes forth to exercise his skill, 
allowing the hunted prey a chance for its life 
and freedom, the sentimentalist, who is gen- 
erally someone who never took pleasure in 
that form of amusement, throws up his hands 
and exclaims, "How brutal!" It is easy to 
discriminate against a practice in which one 
does not participate. Self-denial, when you 
deny yourself nothing, is an easy and con- 
venient morality. The brute creation is sac- 
rificed for man's enjoyment, and it is useless 
to offer capricious objections to a form of 
sacrifice which pleases another and which 
does not happen to appeal to one's own Idea 
of pleasure. 

There is a great deal of Inconsistency dis- 
played by many who deprecate hunting with 
a rifle or shotgun, as the case may be. Cruelty 
to animals seems to Include birds and quad- 
rupeds, but not fish. I have heard people 

who are fond of angling expatiate upon the 

127 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

wickedness of destroying animal life; yet they 
saw no harm in catching fish with a light rod 
and play their quarry for a long time. 

The huntsman endeavors to kill his game 
as soon as possible; he does not prolong its 
agony for his amusement. No protests are 
made against fishing as a sport so far as I 
have observed. The reason for this is not 
hard to discover. The fish is a cold-blooded 
creature to whom the heart does not seem to 
go out in sympathy to any extent; the slimy 
scales do not invite the contact of the fingers 
like the warm fur of a deer or the soft down 
of a duck; there is nothing in its "yellow 
orbs" to excite sentimental regard; it is not 
an object one would pet or fondle like a 
spotted fawn; wanting in qualities which 
appeal to the fancy, no plea is set up in its 
behalf. In further evidence of the incon- 
sistency In question I have heard ladies almost 
melt with emotion while deprecating the de- 
struction of animal life by the sportsman, who 

128 



Bloodless Sport 

yet seem little affected by the recital of the 

lingering death agony of the poor creatures 

caught in traps to furnish the furs which 
minister to female vanity. 

The universal custom of sacrificing animal 
life in some form or another makes it impos- 
sible for one to condemn the sportsman's 
method of destroying it without the charge 
of inconsistency. Once concede that the right 
to take the life of dumb creatures exists, and 
the individual must decide in what way that 
right shall be exercised, with the limitations 
which civilization places upon the exercise of 
all natural rights. 



129 



WESTERN CAMP LIFE 

WE read of the big game which once 
frequented the Western part of the 
United States in such large numbers; yet In 
traveling over that section In a Pullman It 
Is surprising that we seldom see any evidence 
of it. Leaving the line of the railway and 
settlement, the monotony of the sterile plain 
covered with sagebrush Is unrelieved by signs 
of animal life, except horses and cattle and 
occasionally herds of sheep. The old life 
has passed and the new has hardly developed 
sufficiently to supply Its place. 

Here and there may be found spots which 
excite the ardor of sportsmen, but they are 
generally inaccessible except through the 
agency of a competent guide. The great 
herds of buffalo which once swept over the 
plains in such vast numbers as to endanger 

130 



I ' i^'^S^S^JKjjjyt 






rt 




O 








C 




o 




bo 




C 








-o 








o 




r-; 








>. 


d 


^ 


2; 


-T3 


t— ' 


u 


K 


3 






p5 


'rt 


l-H 




►-1 


<Sl 






Western Camp Life 

the life of the pioneer, have disappeared 
entirely; the elk have almost vanished and 
their annual migrations have ceased to be a 
terror to the ranchman, who fenced In his 
hay to protect It from the famished herds. 
Even the smaller game has greatly dimin- 
ished. 

There are yet some localities where, 
primeval conditions still continue to a great 
extent; of these the most noted Is the country 
south of the Yellowstone National Park. 
To the providential care of the National 
Government, In laying out this great pre- 
serve. Is due the preservation of the principal 
sport which now remains. Large bands of 
elk frequent this preserve during the greater 
part of the year, until the heavy snows drive 
them down from the higher elevations to 
obtain pasturage. Other game besides elk 
may be hunted In the country adjacent to the 
park, such as sheep, antelope and blacktail 
deer, besides smaller animals. With a pack 

131 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

of well trained dogs It is also possible to hunt 
with success cougars, bobcats, lynx and some- 
times bear. Elk and deer do not, as a rule, 
frequent the same locality to any extent. If 
one desires to hunt sheep and goats a still 
different plan of operation must be adopted, 
while antelope inhabit a country where neither 
elk, deer, sheep, nor goats are likely to be 
found, except by merest accident. 

The time when a sportsman could pitch 
his tent most anywhere and expect the wild 
animal life of forest and plain to come to 
him as they came to Adam when he first 
named them, has long since vanished. To 
hunt with success one must be thoroughly 
versed in woodcraft, be possessed of a good 
knowledge of the habits of game and the 
localities where they are to be found at dif- 
ferent seasons of the year, have a quick eye to 
pick out a desirable head, and must be a rea- 
sonably fair judge of distance, to gauge the 
proper elevation of a rifle. The happy com- 

132 



Western Camp Life 

bination of these qualities make the skilled 
hunter; marksmanship, provided It be fair, 
Is the least Important of all his qualifications. 
There are a great many men who^ are good 
shots at a stationary target who are bad shots 
at game; there are men who are good shots 
at game, who are by no means experts In 
shooting at a mark. This statement may 
seem paradoxical but readily admits of ex- 
planation. The marksman has his range 
given him, he takes his time, and is not be- 
trayed Into sudden action. Change these 
conditions and he Is out of his element. If 
his eye Is not trained to judge distance In 
timber or on the plain, he can easily mis- 
gauge it, and shooting at a moving object 
he cannot take his time; the absence of any 
spot on the animal near the point he Is aim- 
ing at is another disadvantage to the man of 
the target. The practiced hunter knows his 
distance; his keen eye readily distinguishes 
his quarry, although it may blend with the 

133 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

landscape, so that the unpracticed eye might 
easily overlook It; he Is accustomed to take 
a quick sight and shoot, making proper allow- 
ances for the moving object; If a rapid 
advance Is possible and necessary to cut off 
the game before It can pass a given point 
for which it Is heading, the hunter chooses 
his course, as If by intuition, and often has 
a chance to get several more shots where 
another would fail of his opportunity. The 
skill of a hunter generally brings him within 
such proximity of game as to relieve him of 
the necessity of making an extra difficult shot. 
It is surprising how seldom the huntsman dis- 
charges his rifle compared to one who prac- 
tices at a target. The man who is fond of 
target practice will probably use up as many 
rounds of ammunition In one afternoon shoot- 
ing at a mark as the average huntsman will 
consume in an entire year. 

A sportsman who is a fair shot, and who 
goes to a locality where game is fairly plenti- 

134 



Western Camp Life 

ful, has every reason in the world to expect 
success, provided he is accompanied by a real 
hunter, such an one as I have above described. 
It is very important to employ a competent 
guide if one expects a successful hunt. When 
I speak of a competent guide I mean a man 
who is a good hunter and also' capable of 
managing a hunting outfit. 

Guides may be divided Into three classes: 

( 1 ) Ordinary frauds who are watching 
an opportunity to ''work" some "dude," by 
which name sportsmen are sometimes desig- 
nated in the slang of the country. 

(2) Backwoodsmen who are good hun- 
ters and tireless and will supply a sportsman 
with the best they know how to provide, but 
being ignorant of the ordinary comforts of 
civilized hfe, treat their sportsmen with the 
same cruel neglect to which they have accus- 
tomed themselves. 

(3) The man who makes a regular busi- 
ness of acting as a guide, who Is a good 

135 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

hunter and who also knows how to provide 
a first-class outfit. 

Game has greatly decreased before the 
advance of civilization and the wanton 
slaughter which took no thought of the 
future; the wild life which survives owes its 
preservation to the almost inaccessible char- 
acter of the country in which it has taken 
refuge, and to its own cunning, which of 
necessity has become very acute. 

To know the habitat of game and outwit 
Its wariness requires the skill of the practiced 
hunter. 

We have heard a great deal about rough- 
ing it. That phrase as formerly understood 
must be greatly qualified If the modem 
sportsman patronizes an up-to-date outfit. 

Going to a wild and rather inaccessible 
country has about it a certain charm of 
novelty, and part of that charm grows out of 
the Idea of roughing it. Some people have a 
tendency to greatly exaggerarte the ordeals 

136 



Western Camp Life 

through which they pass in order that they 
may enhance the interest of their experience. 
This goes with the weakness for overstating 
the distance and increasing the apparent 
difficulty of the shots which they make in 
securing their trophies, in which error they 
are too frequently sustained by the somewhat 
elastic conscience of the guide. This is an 
age of progress, and that phrase applies to 
methods of enjoying sport quite as well as 
it does to anything else. Having good sport 
with comfort in camp life is simply a question 
of dollars and cents. The average person 
does not understand the present conditions 
of sporting life in a wild country. 

It must be borne in mind that in traveling 
in rough sections of the West, where big 
game still abounds, although in much smaller 
numbers than formerly, everything has toi be 
carried on pack horses. What you are to 
take is limited simply by the supply of pack 
horses you are to engage. In an up-to-date 

137 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

outfit the open camp-fire, such a picturesque 
feature in an Illustration, has been supplanted 
by a plain sheet-Iron stove which Is placed In 
the tent, with a few feet of pipe attached to 
carry off the smoke. If one wants the open 
fire It of course can be easily supplied, and 
at first a good many sportsmen desire It on 
account of the romance and novelty of the 
experience, but the same pampered tastes, 
which have forced man from a savage life 
to adopt the comforts which civilization 
supplies, will Invariably lead to the open 
camp-fire being abandoned for the common- 
place sheet-Iron stove — very unromantic but 
thoroughly practical and useful. The open 
camp-fire, with the smoke blowing In your 
eyes from every direction, which gives the 
sensation of being scorched on one side and 
frozen on the other, does not appeal to the 
modern sportsman who disassociates sport 
from martyrdom. 

Folding tables and chairs can be "packed" 

138 



Western Camp Life 

quite easily, and It Is much pleasanter to sit 
In a chair and eat off of a table than to sit 
on a log trying to make a table of your knees, 
and occasionally converting your lap Into a 
plate for your spilled victuals. A portable 
rubber bathtub. If one objects to jumping 
Into cold water, satisfies the desire for 
cleanliness. With a fire in the stove one can 
take a bath as«easlly and comfortably in camp 
as at home. For thorough cleansing it Is 
best for one to take a bath In a tent In warm 
water, but I strongly recommend to those 
who can stand it a plunge in cold water or 
being soused with a bucket or two every 
morning before dressing for the day. This 
stimulates the body and gets the system In 
fine condition. 

For those who find it uncomfortable to 
sleep on the hard surface of the ground I 
would recommend a pneumatic mattress. An 
ample supply of canned stuff Insures against 
the chance of bad cooking, because it requires 

139 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

little or no skill to prepare canned provisions, 
If the other food In camp Is not particularly 
appetizing. 

This article is not intended for the ex- 
perienced hunter who has had plenty of 
experience of Western hunting; nor is it 
intended for the man who' has his heart set 
upon roughing it In the sense that he desires 
to see how much he can go through and 
survive. A great deal of the advice given 
to people has been in the opposite direction, 
namely, to cut out as much as possible from 
their hunting outfit. I claim that the average 
person who desires sport with as little hard- 
ship as possible, except what is unavoidable, 
should be very careful about reducing his 
outfit too much. Most sportsmen are ac- 
customed to the ordinary comforts and con- 
veniences of life. It is perfect folly for 
such people to attempt in a short time to 
harden themselves to the frontier life so 

they may endure Its hardships with the 

140 







VIEW FROM MT. LEIDY. 



Western Camp Life 

same Indifference as the hunter or trapper 
who lives that way all the time. I have run 
across sportsmen who have had their hunting 
trips spoiled by attempting to rough It too 
much. If you are accustomed to living well 
and In comfo-rt, it would be wise to recognize 
the fact that you are a "tenderfoot" and act 
accordingly. For the average sportsman the 
object of a hunting trip In the West Is to 
obtain diversion and acquire health. All the 
roughing it one requires Is the vigorous exer- 
cise, the fresh air, with an occasional dip In 
Ice cold water, which Is conducive tO' health; 
the rest of the hardship it is well tO' leave out 
as far as possible. 

My experience has led me to add to a 
hunting outfit, the oftener I gO' out, rather 
than depleting it. The first time I really saw 
an up-to-date outfit was In 1902, when I 
engaged as my guide Edward Sheffield, o«f 
Idaho'. I joked him about all the things he 

was taking along and called him a "tender- 

141 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

foot." He replied that "he had had all the 
roughing It he wanted In his time, and those 
who really knew what It was generally pre- 
ferred a camp as comfortable as possible." 
I experienced during that trip and a subse- 
quent one I took next fall such comfort, 
combined with good sport, as I never had 
before. 

I would advise taking an emergency 
medical case supplied with all the ordinary 
remedies. I have known the time when such 
a thing has proved extremely useful, and I 
have also known of sportsmen who have had 
their outing ruined through lack of some 
simple remedy. 



142 



AN ELK HUNT IN WYOMING 

TVTHEN I wrote to my old guide Edward 

V^ Sheffield, I was somewhat apprehen- 
sive about the outlook for sport, because I 
had heard that the best part of the Jackson 
Hole Country had been included in the 
reserve set apart by the State of Wyoming, 
where sport with big game had been entirely 
interdicted. 

I was advised, however, that this was not 
the fact, and pinning my faith to the good 
judgment of the guide, I made arrangements 
for a fall hunt. Before reaching the terminal 
of the railroad journey I chanced to meet 
some sportsmen who discussed the sport and 
commented on the conditions existing in 
Jackson's Hole. The criticisms were by no 
means favorable, and various instances were 
cited of parties who had been disappointed 

143 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

In their expectations. My subsequent ex- 
perience only served to convince me how 
dependent a sportsman has become upon the 
services of a good guide. 

The trip from St. Anthony to Jackson was 
without Incident worth relating, except at 
the start. The pack horses, which, during 
their stay in town, had fared handsomely on 
oats and hay and been well sheltered, did not 
look forward to a trip back Into the bleak 
and sterile mountains with the same pleasure 
that I did; their refractory souls yearned for 
the comfortable quarters they were just leav- 
ing with the same tenacity that the children 
of Israel In the wilderness *'longed for the 
fleshpots of Egypt," but here the compari- 
son ends, for they had not a guide who was 
meek and gentle like Moses. 

About a mile from St. Anthony the whole 
bunch turned off on a side road and went 
back to their former quarters. After some 
delay they were finally got In line again, and 

144 




GUIDE EDWARD SHEFFIELD AND TWO ELK HEADS. 



Elk Hunt in Wyoming 

with the aid of a couple of Mormons, who, 
for a consideration, agreed to help them 
for several miles, we got the pack train 
properly started, and after that had no 
further trouble with them. 

The journey was a fairly long one, but it 
became more interesting as we drew away 
from civilization and got closer to the place 
where we intended to make permanent camp. 
After the first day we passed the wide 
monotonous stretch of sage brush flats which 
lies between St. Anthony and Victor; after 
that the landscape grew more mountainous 
and wooded. The country became very pic- 
turesque as we proceeded; every mountain 
presented a view which was a panorama; 
every opening in the timber seemed a natural 
frame for an entrancing picture; the atmos- 
phere so clear and bracing gave fine definition 
tO' objects in view; the winding river rushed 
fretting and foaming between the rocks in 
the valley below; large clumps of spruces 

145 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

clustered upon the mountain sides, and the 
rough crags were powdered with snow and 
sometimes glistening with rills which coursed 
down their rugged surfaces. After traveling 
along the Gros Ventre River for a consider- 
able distance we at last came in view of Mt. 
Leidy, superbly situated between two rows 
of mountains on either side of a pleasant 
valley, at the head of which that peak 
stands. The ground was covered with a few 
inches of snow — enough to make good hunt- 
ing. We made an early camp and had plenty 
of time to get everything arranged before it 
became dark. The location was ideal ; plenty 
of timber nearby; a fine stream of clear, cold 
water, and good grazing for the horses. It 
was quite important to have* a good range 
for the stock, because there were eleven pack 
horses and three riding horses — fourteen in 
all. To take care of these required the ser- 
vices of a horse wrangler. I had three men, 
my regular guide, Edward Sheffield ; Charles 

146 



Elk Hunt in Wyoming 

Herdick, a Wyoming guide, and Marcus Imo, 
who cooked and turned his hand to anything 
else that had to be attended to. 

The day being young when we arrived, 
I employed it in making a short hunting 
scout. Charles Herdick went with me, and 
I soon discovered how much my wind had 
deteriorated since I had last been out, for 
in the meantime I had lived a life of com- 
parative ease. The general elevation in this 
section ranges from 7,000 to 10,000 feet, 
and It takes a few days to accustom your 
lungs to the rarified atmosphere. When one 
Is not taking any vigorous exercise the climate 
feels exhilarating and Inspires one with the 
belief that he Is able to perform any kind 
of feat; a few minutes of real strenuous 
exercise and this delusion Is destroyed. I 
soon discovered that Herdick was a good 
hand at mountain climbing, being wonder- 
fully supple and possessed of the best pair 
of lungs of anyone I ever knew. 

147 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

We finally caught sight of a small bunch 
of elk at a considerable distance. As they 
were moving over a crest of a hill it became 
necessary to travel with speed to get near 
enough for a shot, if by chance there should 
be a good head in the bunch. The elk had 
not seen us, but were moving and might get 
out of range. Completely exhausted I finally 
gained the summit of a hill overlooking 
the herd, which had halted. An old bull 
stood in the quaking aspens, not over sixty 
yards away. A glance at the head, and I 
saw that I had had my pains for nothing. I 
watched the animals for a few moments, and 
they seemed to me like old acquaintances, for 
it had been three years since I last hunted 
this kind of game. I do not believe they 
were as pleased to see me as I was to see 
them. They soon started to run directly from 
us in the direction of camp, which was quite 
near. My guide, Edward Sheffield, told me 
afterward that they came very near, and he 

148 



Elk Hunt in Wyoming 

was afraid they would run through camp. 
He gravely warned me against the danger 
of driving a large bunch of "Uncle Sam's 
cattle" in that direction. 

It was a pleasure after this little excite- 
ment to drop into a comfortable camp and 
find everything nicely arranged and a good 
meal provided. My quarters were supplied 
with every convenience that could be ex- 
pected by one who travels with a pack outfit. 
It may, perhaps, interest those who have had 
no practical experience in Western hunting 
to know what can be furnished. We had 
folding chairs, a folding table, two tents, and 
in each a portable sheet-iron stove with a 
couple of lengths of pipe to take off the 
smoke. I had a pneumatic mattress to save 
my tired flesh from the hard ground, and 
whatever else was required which horses 
could pack in. When I was tired of hunting 
I could rest a day or so and read novels in 

a comfortable tent, no matter how cold the 

149 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

weather. This does not seem like roughing 
It. The frontiersman of former days would 
have thought such comfort with a hunting 
outfit impossible. Modern progress, how- 
ever, has caused most of the Inconveniences 
of camp life tO' disappear as if by magic. 
Would that its magic influence could restock 
the wilderness with the great herds of wild 
animals that have vanished. 

The following day I went out with the 
guide to try my luck. We had not traveled 
more than two miles before discovering a 
small herd of elk. We circled around them 
sufficiently tO' size them up, but could find no 
heads worth picking out. Our course was 
then changed, and we hunted toward a high 
mountain north of Mt. Leidy. From this 
point we obtained a fine view of the sur- 
rounding country, which I carefully swept 
with my Seitz glasses In quest of game. Far 
off on a distant ridge we finally saw some 
elk slowly moving out of the timber into the 

ISO 






^^S^tmm 


i 









VALLEY OF GROS VENTRE. 



Elk Hunt in Wyoming 

open. Their brown shapes showed very 
distinctly against the sno»w-covered hills, but, 
although there was a considerable number in 
view, no good antlers were visible. My 
strong glasses proved of very great service 
to me. With them I could ascertain plainly 
what otherwise I would have had to guess 
at, and they saved me many a long excursion 
over rough country to determine the value 
of a set of antlers. My guide was quite as 
anxious as myself that I should not have any 
trophies unworthy of a sportsman's ambition. 
The law allows one only two heads, and It 
is necessary to take great pains to avoid 
making mistakes. I made up my mind that 
I would go back empty-handed rather than 
pack out antlers which would reflect discredit 
upon my skill. The guide was particularly 
anxious that I should obtain specimens which 
would do no injury to his reputation. I 
think I must have passed unfavorable judg- 
ment upon twenty-five or thirty heads — for 

151 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

which the guide was mainly responsible — 
before I finally secured my trophies. Any 
number of bulls presented themselves, some 
of them quite easy marks, only to be snubbed 
and turned down. Paris, In passing judg- 
ment upon the goddesses to determine which 
was the most beautiful, could not have been 
more critical or discriminating than the guide. 
I doubt If the unsuccessful rivals of the bulls 
I finally chose as worthy specimens were 
seriously disappointed. 

To illustrate the ease with which I could 
have secured my legal allowance of two bulls, 
to say nothing of cows, I will cite a few In- 
stances of the opportunities I had. On one 
occasion I was going through the timber 
where I heard a number of elk. The guide 
called my attention to a bull lying on the 
ground not sixty yards away, partly con- 
cealed by the spruce brush. He was facing 
directly toward us, his front feet folded 
under his body and his nose close to the 

152 



Elk Hunt in Wyoming 

ground. We stood quite still and surveyed 
him carefully, sizing up the head, which had 
twelve points, but not large nor heavy at the 
base. The glasses were brought into service 
to make a more critical examination. A 
couple of minutes we stood discussing him, 
when finally he gave a brief snort, which 
sounded like an expression of disgust at our 
impertinence, and then jumped up and loped 
out of sight. 

Shortly afterward we managed to approach 
close to a very large herd of elk, mostly 
hidden in the timber. From our concealment 
we could see a number of the animals not 
over thirty or forty yards away. About 150 
yards off were a couple of young bulls exer- 
cising their skill by fencing with their antlers, 
evidently in sport. We could hear the fre- 
quent clash of the horns and often got a good 
view of the contestants. We waited in this 
spot over an hour, until despairing of seeing 
anything worth shooting at before it grew 

153 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

too dark, we suddenly rose up In plain view. 
The peaceful scene was soon converted Into 
one of great confusion. For a moment the 
elk stared at us with their beautiful large 
brown eyes In astonishment, then a general 
panic communicated Itself to the herd, and 
every animal In sight began moving off. Each 
clump of vegetation that could conceal a 
form seemed suddenly animated by a creature 
breaking from Its hiding place, fleeing for 
safety; the cows and calves gave vent to their 
peculiar bleat of alarm, while the bulls 
snorted and rattled their antlers against the 
trees In their haste. For some hundred yards 
In the timber, and well up on the mountain 
side, the scene became particularly animated. 
I hurried to an opening in the timber, where 
I could get a good view of the retreating 
herd, which had drawn together Into quite a 
solid moving mass. The number of elk 
greatly exceeded my expectations. Nine- 
tenths of the herd had been as carefully con- 

IS4 



Elk Hunt in Wyoming 

cealed from us as we had been from them. 
There must have been at a conservative 
estimate not less than 400 In the herd, and 
possibly 500. A sportsman could only ad- 
mire this striking and beautiful spectacle 
because there was no head worth securing. 
A tooth hunter or a butcher, with a high- 
power repeating rifle, could have repeated 
one of those scenes which sickens every lover 
of sport. 

At another time I came upon a band of 
elk quite as numerous, and, although there 
were a couple of good heads In view, yet the 
number of cow elk was so great that It was 
practically Impossible to get a good shot. 
The entire mass fled straight up the side of 
a steep mountain covered with quaking aspen 
and spruce. For some time we could see 
them crowding one another In dense masses 
In their ascent, but the only shot attempted 
was with the camera, and without success. 

One more instance, which will not only aid 

155 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

In proving the ease of securing an indifferent 
specimen, but goes to show that when game 
Is too plentiful It Is an actual handicap to 
the sportsman. I saw a fine head across a 
gulch at a considerable distance. I fired and 
missed it and the animal escaped beyond 
range. I crossed the gulch to examine the 
spot where the bull had stood and followed 
his tracks to see if he had been wounded, and 
if so, how badly. Although the ground was 
covered with two feet of snow, yet I could 
discover no signs of blood. While discussing 
the matter with the guide we became con- 
scious that we were not unperceived, for a 
great number of elk began to move among 
the trees, having evidently ''spotted" us. We 
made at once for concealment and ran as fast 
as we could through the deep snow to an 
open place toward which the herd was head- 
ing. 

Carefully hidden from view we saw a 
great brown mass thunder past, and before 

is6 



Elk Hunt in Wyoming 

it had disappeared from sight I caught a 
glimpse of the precious set of antlers belong- 
ing to the bull I shot at carried in triumph 
out of sight. They appeared but for a 
moment in the narrow opening, In which the 
intended victim was well protected by cows, 
which formed a perfect wall of flesh which 
no bullet could pierce and speed on to Its 
mark. We made another run under conceal- 
ment In the hope of being able tO' come upon 
the herd again in case it should halt, which 
It did. In an open space on the further side 
of the mountain we confronted the elk at 
close quarters. The rapid traveling in the 
deep snow over rough country left me very 
much exhausted. The first object that 
attracted the attention of the guide and my- 
self was a large bull of twelve points at very 
close range. I thought in the hurry of the 
moment, my vision perhaps being blurred by 
nervous strain and exhaustion, that it was the 
same magnificent specimen I had shot at be- 

157 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

fore and was trying to secure, and the 
animal's position — turned quartering toward 
me — aided the deception. I soon discovered 
the mistake, however, my attention being 
called by the guide to another bull which 
proved to be the one I so earnestly desired. 
I brought my rifle in position to draw a bead 
on a vital spot, but the bull was immediately 
blanketed by several cows running between. 
If I could have had a clear range the shot 
would have been about the easiest I ever had, 
but the faithful cows with their calves 
swarmed around their lord, and I beheld with 
disappointment as fine a pair of antlers as 
I ever saw borne safely out of sight. The 
old bull must have evidently believed that 
"there is safety In numbers." 

There is another disadvantage in encoun- 
tering a great quantity of game when attempt- 
ing to secure a good trophy. Each animal, 
however poor a head it may possess, has 
generally a good pair of eyes, a keen scent 

158 



Elk Hunt in Wyoming 

and excellent hearing. Each addition to a 
herd is another sentinel, always on duty and 
ready at any moment to sound the alarm. 
On a previous hunting' trip, when the elk 
were not nearly so plentiful, I got the heads 
I wanted in less time. I cannot place the 
blame for the trouble I had in securing my 
heads on the cows entirely. 

A couple of days before the scarlet letter 
day of my hunt I fired at a fine bull in a gulch 
quite a distance off. He immediately quick- 
ened his pace and was soon out of range. I 
glanced at my rifle and I found that the 
elevation of the sight had been misplaced, 
being ranged for fifty yards. I think it is 
best to have the sight of a high power gun 
with a very flat trajectory sighted for lOO 
yards, and to draw a fine or coarse sight on 
the object as occasion may require. We ex- 
amined the spot where the bull had been 
seen when fired at and discovered a sprinkling 
of blood along his tracks. Tying the horses, 

159 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

we started to follow the trail on foot. The 
course the bull took favored the higher eleva- 
tions more than the depressions, which was a 
bad sign, so with grave misgivings we con- 
tinued the pursuit. The increasing signs of 
blood inspired us with hope; here and there 
he occasionally stood, as was evident from 
the quantity of blood and the character of 
the impression his feet made in the snow. 
In other respects the signs were disappoint- 
ing; the tracks showed no indication of weak- 
ness, and frequently led us across high fallen 
trees and along steep places, where I fol- 
lowed with difficulty. The blood, although 
quite plentiful, was a light red, and not the 
dark color which would be discharged were 
some vital spot injured. Finally, after travel- 
ing about six miles, the flow of blood began 
to lessen. At length we reached a point 
where he entered a tract of thick timber, 
evidently at a walk. We concluded that it 
was best not to pursue him in this retreat, 

i6o 




CHAS. HERDICK SKINNING A BULL ELK. 
THE AUTHOR AT THE RIGHT. 



Elk Hunt in Wyoming 

because his slow pace might Indicate exhaus- 
tion and a disposition to He down. The only 
hope I had of securing him would be In case 
of his lying down and becoming stiff from 
his wound and not being able to get up. We 
concluded to allow plenty of time for this to 
happen. The guide made a circuit around 
the timber and could discover no trace of his 
having emerged from It. We then went 
back to the horses and rode to camp. The 
succeeding day we returned to the spot, 
traced the steps of the elk to a place where 
he had lain down, and saw a slight discolora- 
tion of the snow where his brisket had 
touched It, his tracks led onward, and signs 
of bleeding had ceased. All our trouble had 
been In vain because of an Improperly ar- 
ranged sight. 

By this time I had been about ten days In 
camp and was growing quite accustomed to 
the life. Although the weather was quite 
cold, at times going to eight or ten below 

i6i 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

zero at night, yet it often grew warm enough 
during the day to thaw, but it was dry, light 
atmosphere and always bracing. Every night 
for a brief interval we were treated to a 
serenade from the coyotes, a ridiculous, wild 
and unearthly chant, which became a positive 
nuisance when the dogs undertook an accom- 
paniment right at our ears. Occasionally a 
bull elk, feeding during the full of the moon, 
would cause the cold atmosphere to vibrate 
with his shrill whistle as he loped past the 
camp. In all other respects we were entirely 
alone for the twxnty-tsvo days I stayed In 
camp except one, when the game warden 
dropped in to look at my license, and after 
a brief stay took his departure. How dif- 
ferent this was from most of the hunting in 
the East, where the number of sportsmen 
has become so great as to render the pastime 
almost as dangerous for the hunter as it is 
for game. Particularly is this the case when 
"green sportsmen" persist in shooting at any- 

162 



Elk Hunt in Wyoming 

thing that moves without first finding out 
what It Is. My guide expressed his surprise 
at the number of accidents which occur every 
year In the Adirondacks through gross care- 
lessness. He remarked that he believed It 
would be best If one were hunting In the 
Adirondacks and saw anything moving In the 
brush to shoot without waiting to find out 
what It was, because the chances are that It 
would be a man, and If you did not shoot 
him he would shoot you. I was rather 
amused at this piece of grim humor, which Is 
a sample of what he generally had on tap. 

The sun dawned auspiciously upon what 
proved to be my luckiest day In camp. For 
some days I had hunted diligently without 
securing the heads that would satisfy me. 
We had not journeyed over three miles from 
camp before we saw, at quite a distance, a 
large bull move Into a thickly wooded valley. 
We turned our course In that direction, keep- 
ing out of view as much as possible, riding 

163 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

along a hill which overlooked the valley into 
which the bull had taken refuge. We came 
to an open and slightly undulating country, 
which was covered with about eighteen inches 
of snow, and gave evidence that quite a 
number of elk had recently passed that way, 
and about 500 yards off saw a herd with sev- 
eral good heads. The country was quite open, 
but broken up with thick clumps of spruce 
trees here and there. To get nearer the herd 
it was necessary to cross a wide open space, 
but by a timely maneuver of the guide 
we traveled under cover until we reached a 
point where a thick clump of trees standing 
out in the open space obstructed the view 
between us and the elk. We then rode out 
in the open toward the clump of trees 
which concealed us from view. Having 
gained this point, which was about 175 to 
200 yards from the herd, I dismounted and 
stepped out in the clearing. The cows again 
provokingly ran between me and the largest 

164 



Elk Hunt in Wyoming 

bull, which I had marked as my own. For- 
tunately, the cows ran ahead and I got a 
quartering view of the large bull. The 
bright reflection of the sun on the snow made 
it somewhat difl^cult to fully distinguish the 
body of the animal in the dense moving mass, 
but I succeeded in locating it. Drawing a 
fine sight on my Mauser I fired. The entire 
herd disappeared over the crest of the hill. 
The guide, who by this time had mounted 
his horse, cried, "You have got a bull." I 
asked him if it was the "big one." He re- 
plied, "I don't know." In the confused and 
changing mass it was Indeed difficult to keep 
track of any particular one. We urged the 
horses to their utmost speed; the antlers of 
the bull continued growing larger to the view 
as we drew near. Finally, with an exclama- 
tion of satisfaction, the guide slipped off his 
horse and congratulated me upon the kill. 
"The largest head In the bunch." It was 
Indeed a fine bull, with a spread just short 

165 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

of four feet. There were twelve points on 
the antlers, six tines on each side. The bullet 
had lodged a little back of the shoulder and 
the animal had dropped without a struggle. 
In the space of fifteen or twenty minutes the 
carcass was dressed; the mantle had been 
stripped off, and We were ready to return for 
a couple of pack horses to bring In the antlers 
and meat. 

We had hardly mounted the horses when 
we saw another bull with a fine head about 
250 yards away. I slid off my horse, and 
getting the distance from the guide, I drew 
a coarse sight and fired as the animal was 
going over a hill. We hurried over to the 
spot where the bull had been and saw faint 
splotches of blood on the snow. As we 
descended the hill the guide remarked he 
hoped we would not have as long a chase 
after this one as we did after the bull we 
hunted so long a few days previous. I re- 
plied that I was certain we would not. "How 

166 



Elk Hunt in Wyoming 

do you know?" he asked. For answer I 
pointed to a lifeless form just beyond lying 
among some spruce trees. As the guide 
stepped alongside of me, where he could get 
a view, he expressed his surprise at the luck 
I had had in getting two such fine heads in 
so short an interval. It was barely half an 
hour since I had secured my first trophy, and 
now I had a second one which we both re- 
garded as better than the first. The ball had 
struck back of the shoulder a little above the 
middle of the body. The spread of this head 
was a trifle larger than the first one I had 
shot; the antlers were more solid, especially 
at the base. My hard hunting had been re- 
warded. I had obtained inside of half an 
hour two heads as handsome and large as 
any that it had ever been my good fortune 
to secure. I felt like a school boy about to 
take a vacation, for I had hunted faithfully 
for about eleven days and I promised myself 

a rest when I had won out with the bulls. 

167 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

For several days I took It easy; a large 
part of the time I sat In a comfortable chair 
In camp and read novels and played cards. 
I also managed to work up quite a small 
medical practice, my victims being Sheffield, 
Charles Herdick and Marcus Imo, the cock 
and horse wrangler. The remedies which 
some people of the far West prescribe for 
their ailments are quite original and simple. 
One day when I was starting out on horse- 
back to hunt In company with Herdick, I 
noticed that he had not saddled his horse. 
I asked him the reason. He replied that he 
was not feeling well and wanted exercise. 
Anyone familiar with hunting In Jackson's 
Hole knows how often one has to leave the 
horse to travel on foot over rough country 
through snow and up slippery ascents for 
hundreds of feet. 

Herdick evidently thought this was not 
enough exercise to keep him In condition. 
Another time Imo had contracted a severe 

i68 



Elk Hunt in Wyoming 

cold which I wanted to prescribe for. He 
replied that It had come on without anything 
and it would go off without anything. After 
some persuasion he consented to take a good 
dose of quinine and a hot drink before retir- 
ing. The next morning the cold had about 
disappeared, but when Imo went out to 
round up the horses he had great difficulty 
In hearing the bell on account of the quinine 
buzzing In his ear, which confirmed his bad 
opinion of medicine. 

After I had tired of loafing I hunted with 
the dogs, tracking cougars, bobcats and lynx. 
Occasionally I would take a shot at a coyote 
to pay it back for some of the unearthly 
serenades we had been treated to at night. 
One day, while following the track of a lynx, 
Herdick came across a No. 5 bear trap. He 
discovered It by noticing some fresh elk meat 
near it. The trap was carefully concealed, 
and had he been an Inexperienced hunter or 

perhaps walking along there at night he 

169 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

might have made discovery by stepping In It. 
It Is against the law to bait a trap with elk 
meat, and It should be forbidden to set traps 
around Indiscriminately where sportsmen are 
licensed to hunt; the permission Implying 
reasonable safety, which Is not the case when 
dangerous traps are set without proper safe- 
guards. We sprung the trap and went on. 
Some men, who' are acquainted with the 
danger arising from this source, always carry 
a monkey-wrench when hunting or trapping. 
A steel trap which could hold a sUver-tlp 
would Inflict a terrible Injury upon anyone 
who was unfortunate enough to become en- 
trapped, even If assistance were promptly 
rendered, and assistance being remote, might 
cause a painful, lingering death. I knew of 
a case where a trapper had set two No. 5 
bear traps, and upon his return found a large 
silver-tip In one of them. Venturing rather 
close to the bear the enraged animal made a 
sudden lunge at him, which the man evaded 

170 




GROS VENTRE RIVER. 



Elk Hunt in Wyoming 

by stepping back hurriedly. In doing so he 
accidentally fell and sprung the other trap 
with his knee and was caught in that position. 
The man was unable to get to his rifle to 
dispatch the bear, which was making efforts 
to reach him. Being in uncomfortably close 
quarters to the bear, and apprehensive of his 
safety, the trapper devised a clever plan to 
dispose of his disagreeable neighbor. Fasten- 
ing his knife to the end of a long pole he 
repeatedly stabbed the bear until death en- 
sued. His companion, going to examine the 
traps, at last found him almost dead with 
pain and released him. 

The end of my outing at length drew 
near, and it became necessary to make 
arrangements to break camp. I had become 
quite attached to the beautiful spot where I 
had spent such a pleasant time and had so 
much luck. Although I had not bagged all 
the game the law allowed me, yet I felt that 
I had obtained exceptionally good heads and 

171 



Inter-Ocean Hunting Tales 

was satisfied. I had also collected a con- 
siderable number of photographs, of which 
Sheffield took the greatest number; In fact, 
he proved quite an expert In this line. The 
horses seemed no more anxious to leave than 
we were, and occasionally proved refractory 
and commenced to buck until something was 
bound over their eyes. The first night of the 
journey homeward we camped on the banks 
of the Gros Ventre. We put up no tents, but 
slept out In the open, because, as I said to 
the guide, I wanted to see how It felt to rough 
it. 

During the day we had descended Into 
a country where the elevation was consider- 
ably lower. The snow, which we had seen 
continuously In our former camp, had all 
disappeared and the temperature was much 
warmer. Early the next day we reached 
Jackson, where we put up at Nelson's 
Hotel and Were very hospitably entertained. 
Although remote from the regular line of 

172 



Elk Hunt in Wyoming 

travel and the railroad, the people In this 
locality live remarkably well and In comfort, 
and on reaching this point I felt I was In 
touch with the rest of the world. Although 
It Is lOO miles from the railroad, yet It Is 
connected with St. Anthony by telephone. A 
musical entertainment was arranged here for 
our benefit by the hospitable Inhabitants of 
the place, which proved very enjoyable. 



173 



AUG 21 1908 



/ 








i 




■ 








■ 




T 






r 






ii 






'ii 


: 


! 


ItHiHlo Hwiil 




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




0'0028946685 



MJlll 



liliii 






